Knight of Gotham: Ragged Reaper
by Kuraun15
Summary: The sequel to Knight of Gotham: Split and the fourth Knight of Gotham book. Two-Face is dead and Deathstroke's whereabouts are unknown. But while things begin to look up, the psychopathic Jonathan Crane, better known to criminals as the Scarecrow, is launched into action, with a terrifying new weapon. Rated T for violence and disturbing content.
1. Chapter 1

Knight of Gotham: Ragged Reaper

CHAPTER I

In the days after the battle in the underground, Lucius had set up the entire relief effort and began fiercely endorsing an increase in police presence, with me at his side. Even better, Dick and Barbara began having frequent phone conversations, and Dick as a result had returned to his usual, humorous self. From what he told me, the therapy I'd anonymously paid for was apparently helping her out. Brittany and Adriana's transition to the Gordon family was going relatively well, considering the fate of their father was still rendered murky. Harvey Dent was buried in a plot right next to his sister, also paid for anonymously by me. Things were finally looking up. But then again, I still knew that Joseph was active. One morning, I woke up peacefully for the first time in a long time, getting my cane and walking into the kitchen. Dick wasn't in there, so I walked back into the hall, hearing him talk to Barbara over the phone. He and Barbara were mostly engaging in small talk, occasionally going off on random tangents. I said to myself, "It's all good, then." I knocked on the door, saying, "Hey, Dick, I was looking at making something involving bacon this morning. You up for that?" "Is American Psycho a dark comedy?" Dick said in response. I said slowly, "I, uh, I haven't seen American Psycho." Dick sighed and said, "Yeah, Bruce. Bacon's good." "All right," I said, nodding. I walked into the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

Not long after, Dick walked into the room, asking, "So, what'd you come up with?" "Well, I took some biscuits we have, and stuck cheese and the bacon inside of them," I answered. I brought the platter holding the food over to Dick. He picked one up, biting into it. I set the platter in the middle of the kitchen's island, looking at Dick and asking, "So, how's the whole 'relationship' thing treating you?" "Pretty good," said Dick, "I think I'm ready for the commitment." "All right, that's all well and good," I said, picking up a biscuit, "But one thing: no sex." Dick grimaced and said, "Come on, dude! Why do you have to go from lighthearted and smash…uh, bang…uh, AND JUMP RIGHT TO THAT?!" "Because you are a teenaged human male," I said, "I'm just taking precautions. And besides, my room is right next to yours." "I GET IT," said Dick, "No sex. That's a promise." "Keep it," I said, "Or I'll find out." "Let's just not right now," said Dick, covering his face with his hands and sighing heavily. "Okay, I just needed to let you know," I said, smirking, "And now that I have, I have to tell you something exciting. Batgirl's costume is complete." "Really?" asked Dick excitedly. "Uh-huh," I answered, "I sent the design to Lucius a few days ago. He had more time to work on it than he did with yours or mine. Barbara's going to meet us there." "How?" asked Dick, "Won't her parents be a little suspicious?" "It just so happens that her school is having her write about someone she thinks is an influential businessman," I answered, "She chose Lucius." Dick nodded, saying, "Good." We finished breakfast and headed over to Lucius' house.

Once there, we knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Barbara answered, asking, "What took you so long? We've been waiting for you guys!" "She's right about that," said Lucius from inside the house. "Well, you know, you can't rush perfection, or however it goes," said Dick. Barbara stuck out her tongue for a second, saying, "Yeah, right, Dick." "I can't even tell if that was an insult or just my name," said Dick. Barbara laughed lightly, punching Dick in the arm. Dick rubbed his arm, saying, "Wow. Have you been working out, Barb?" "A little bit," said Barbara, "I bet I could take you down." "We'll have time for that later," I said, "But right now, we're not sparring." I looked at Barbara and finished, "Right now, the focus is on your suit, young lady." Barbara smiled widely, leading Dick by the hand and saying, "Come on! It's this way!" "I already know where it is, Barb," said Dick, laughing. They headed down the stairs to the gigantic lab, with Lucius and me following. Once inside, Lucius said, "Wait up! I'm not as fast as I used to be." "Me neither," I said, smiling. Lucius went up to Barbara, saying, "All right, there's a place for you to change over there. It'll be right inside." Barbara nodded excitedly, running over. Dick said, "She's cute when she's excited." I rolled my eyes and said, "Give me a break, man." Dick smirked, and we heard Barbara squeal in excitement.

A few minutes later, Barbara walked out of the changing station, saying, "Introducing…Batgirl!" The suit was exactly how she designed it, though Lucius had added wrist-mounted grappling hooks, like on mine. She asked, "What do you guys think?" "I think you're going to make the bad guys realize their locked-away fear of girls," answered Dick. Barbara turned towards me, expectantly. "What he said," I said, gesturing towards Dick. Barbara finally faced Lucius, who said, "I think my work here is done. Use it well." "I'm going to do exactly that, Mr. Fox," said Barbara, grinning. "Now, I can't reiterate this enough," I said, "You're going to stay back when we're in the field for now. I know you can take care of yourself, but we don't need another…" I trailed off. Barbara's smile had vanished, and she'd begun to fidget with her hair. "You know," I finished. Barbara nodded hastily, and Dick walked over to her, taking her hand in his. I walked over to her and put my hand on her shoulder. I said, "I'll keep you safe this time. Me and Dick both." Barbara looked me and Dick in the eyes in turn, nodding. "Thanks, Mr. Fox," she said to Lucius. "It was a pleasure, Miss Gordon," said Lucius in return. I gave her some space, saying, "The suit can stay in the Batcave, if you want." "Sure," said Barbara, "It'd be easier to hide it that way. I'm going to go change back." She walked back over to the changing station, and Dick sighed heavily.

"I wish she didn't have to go through that," said Dick, "Her mood just flipping like a switch when she even thinks about it." "Neither do I," I said, "But after all these years, living with myself, I know it's a part of how we process things. Before we cope, we have to fully come to terms with what happened. I was just like she was for years." "Well, what about me?" said Dick, "It didn't take me that long." "It's different for everyone, I guess," I said, shrugging, "So you have to keep in mind: if you really are willing to commit, you'll be willing to help her through this, no matter how long it lasts." "You're right," said Dick, sighing, "I just don't know if I can." "You'll learn," I said reassuringly. Barbara walked back to us, carrying the suit. Barbara kissed Dick on the cheek and said to me, "I'll be here for a little bit longer, Mr. Wayne. I really do want to complete that homework. Do you mind taking this to your place?" "Not at all," I said. Dick took it, saying, "I'll see you later, Barb." "You too, Richard," said Barbara. Dick hugged Barbara. Eventually, we left. As we headed back home, Dick was staring out the window. "You two will be fine," I said, "You're both too strong to let anything get in your way." "I wish I was as sure of it as you are," said Dick, melancholy. We didn't say anymore.

Jonathan Crane had an incredible mind. It was all he valued, really. He was a rather thin man, but that didn't bother him. He didn't believe that looks and power were all it took to get ahead. He didn't have the same hang-ups as Bane. Instead, he believed that a studious mind was what it took to unlock the secret to anything, and so that's how he was. A PhD at age twenty-four, he was unstoppable. His students thought of him as a strict, but amiable professor. He was engaging when he spoke, and his lessons weren't nearly as dull as his students might have thought previously. He was a bit odd, however. He walked around with a cane for no apparent reason. He had no limp, and no back problems. And yet, he still went everywhere with it. The students had also tested him in other areas. Once, they tried to determine his sexuality through several volunteers of both genders flirting with him. He showed no response to either gender, much to the students' dismay. But that didn't stop Zoe Feldman from trying. Zoe wasn't what you'd call a diligent student. She was more likely to be in a boy's dorm than in class, and as a result her work was rarely turned in on time. And without fail, it was of most questionable quality. So one day, while Jonathan was grading papers, including hers, she walked in.

It was getting late, and almost no one was around, so Zoe had no inhibitions concerning what she was wearing. Jonathan heard his door clack open to reveal Zoe with a trench coat. Jonathan sighed and rolled his eyes, saying, "Zoe, I already graded your paper. You didn't turn it in on time, and you barely did the work. You can't change that." Zoe said seductively, "Oh, really?" She shed the trench coat, revealing a tight crop top and inappropriately short shorts. Jonathan said sarcastically, "Real nice. Get out. I'm not in the mood for this." Zoe leaned over the desk, asking, "Are you sure about that, Professor Crane?" She attempted to reach towards Jonathan's crotch, over his desk. Suddenly, Jonathan grasped her wrist tightly, and his voice turned completely emotionless, even more terrifying than when he was mad. "I told you I wasn't in the mood, Zoe," he said quietly, "You just don't listen, do you?" Her eyes widened, realizing something terrible was about to happen. Jonathan reached for his cane, which was resting nearby. He flipped open the top like a lighter, saying, "This is why I don't go anywhere without this. Who knows when I might need to use it? Too bad you won't remember this…well, consciously, anyway. It's pretty cool." He stood up, still holding Zoe captive.

He pressed a small button on the side of the cane, releasing some kind of gas. He let Zoe go, and she backed up quickly, inhaling the gas. "What'd you do?" she asked frantically. "The gas you just inhaled is odorless, colorless, and tasteless," answered Jonathan, "Don't worry, you won't die. You'll need therapy, though. What's your worst fear?" Zoe didn't answer. "You want more?" said Jonathan, holding up his cane. "S-spiders," said Zoe, terrified. "How common," sneered Jonathan, "I was hoping for something more. Oh, well. I guess it'll be interesting enough." Zoe looked on at Jonathan, terrified. Suddenly, his face exploded into the writhing underside of a spider, and his hands fell off. They began making sickening crunching noises, as did his gut. His hands turned into spiders, and a spider's head came out of his stomach. He began speaking. His voice sounded like an inhuman screech, a demonic groan, and his regular voice had been put together. "Interesting," he observed, "I wonder what you're seeing?" Zoe began screaming frantically as the two spiders on the ground began skittering towards her. She crawled backwards, still screaming. "And…" said Jonathan, trailing off. Zoe suddenly fainted. The hallucinogen would pass when she woke up. "That was kind of short," said Jonathan, disappointed, walking over to Zoe. He checked her pulse. She was fine. "Good," he said. He stood, cracking his neck and saying, "Disgusting little whore." He took his cane and walked out of his office and called 911 as Zoe twitched in fear, even in unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

The operator picked up, saying, "911, what is your emergency?" Jonathan sighed heavily and nervously, saying, "Well, I, uh, this, she…" "Sir, calm down," said the operator, "Just take a few deep breaths and try again." On the other end, Jonathan nodded, breathing in and out in a few times, slowly. He said, "Um…a student of mine…she walked into my office…and she collapsed. I'm not sure what happened. I need an ambulance here now!" "As soon as possible," said the operator, "Where are you?" "Gotham University," said Jonathan, "I'm Dr. Jonathan Crane." "Okay, an ambulance is on its way now," said the operator reassuringly. "Okay," said Jonathan, sighing heavily. He hung up. He dropped the fakery, walking intently back into his office. He took off his jacket, placing it around Zoe's shoulders. "There," he said, emotionless, "Just as they'd expect a caring professor to do." He walked out of his office, sitting down up against the wall just outside with his cane. Five minutes later, he heard the telltale whining of an ambulance siren. He smirked slightly. He ran his hands through his hair, as a panicked person who'd just witnessed someone collapse might do. EMTs quickly rushed in with a stretcher. One came up to Jonathan, asking, "Is she in your office?" "Yes," said Jonathan, "I think she's still breathing." He stood up, watching the EMTs as they extracted Zoe.

A few hours later, he went to Gotham General Hospital with a vase full of flowers. He went up to the front desk, saying, "Um, I'm Jonathan Crane, Zoe Feldman's psych professor. Could you take these to her room?" The nurse at the front desk asked, "Are you sure you don't want to deliver them personally? Pay her a visit?" "No, I'm naturally a very shaky person," said Jonathan, "I don't think it would be good for my composure. Besides, I have to prepare a lesson. There are still other students who need me. Do they know what happened to her, by the way?" The nurse checked Zoe's file, saying, "They ran a tox screen. No drugs, illegal or prescription. At this point, it seems like she just…fell." "All right," said Jonathan, "At least she's okay." The nurse nodded, saying, "I'll get those flowers to her for you." Jonathan nodded his thanks, walking off. The nurse took the flowers into Zoe's room, saying, "Flowers for you, Miss Feldman." "From who?" asked Zoe. She furrowed her brow. She may have been quite promiscuous, but never had she received flowers from any of her various dates. The nurse set the flowers down on the bedside table, answering with a smile, "Your professor, Mr. Crane." "Oh," said Zoe, "That's awfully nice of hi…" She stopped. She only remembered walking into Jonathan's office, and then nothing. But even so, in her mind's eye, dismembered and rotting spiders writhed. She threw up violently, feeling weak. The nurse pressed the emergency call button, saying, "We have a situation in here!" Meanwhile, Jonathan was walking out of the hospital. Numerous nurses rushed past him towards Zoe's room. He smiled.

After he exited, he got a call from Cerberus. He answered, "Hi." Cerberus shuddered on the other end, saying, "We haven't heard anything from you for a while. What's been going on?" "Just a little annoyance," said Jonathan. "What kind of annoyance?" said Cerberus suspiciously, "I don't want you alerting anyone." "Nobody's dead," said Jonathan, irked, "Just emotionally scarred. You guys are all about that, right?" Cerberus paused. Eventually, he sighed, saying, "Fine. Just don't draw attention to yourself. You've come close before." "I'm careful, you know that," said Jonathan, "Stop your growling, dog." "It's Cerberus," said Cerberus, outraged. "Exactly," said Jonathan. Cerberus fumed, saying, "Look, Joseph wants you to get on it. Now." "Fine," said Jonathan, "I guess I don't have much to do anyway." Jonathan hung up, walking to his car and heading to the Gotham PD's HQ. He went to the front of the building, calling someone. A minute later, a police officer let him inside, saying, "What do you want this time, Scarecrow?" "Why so callous, officer DeCarlo?" asked Jonathan. "Because of you, I had to make up some excuse to stay here all night, waiting!" answered DeCarlo angrily, "That's why!" "Roger, Roger, Roger," said Jonathan, "Isn't it worth it, waiting for me?" Roger's mouth twitched with anger, and he said disgruntledly, "I'm only putting up with you because you outrank me." "No, it's because you're scared," said Jonathan, walking inside. Roger sneered, following Jonathan inside the building.

"The gang's all here, then," said Jonathan, looking around at Jordan Rich, Timothy Munroe, Arnold Flass, Jim Corrigan, and Marcus Wise. All corrupt police officers. All under Joseph's command, who they all assumed was a gang leader, not a leader of an army. "What'd you want, Scarecrow?" asked Jim, a strangely pale man. "I'll explain that, Spectre," answered Jonathan, "Have patience." Jim was angered, saying, "Don't call me that. It's not like I'm this pale by choice." "Could've had me fooled," said Jonathan. He looked over at Timothy, seeing that his arm was in a sling. "What happened to you?" asked Jonathan. "Deal gone bad," said Timothy, "Had to have it taken out to make it look like a through-and-through. Otherwise, IA would've found the custom-made bullet and gotten suspicious." "I guess you'll be doing the talking, then," said Jonathan. He paused for a few seconds, eventually stating, "Now. As to why I'm here. Joseph doesn't want to cooperate anymore. He wants the competition out of the way." "So, wait, was it him that killed Stryker a while back?" asked Jordan. "No, we don't know who it was," answered Jonathan, "Probably an out-of-towner. Nobody in Gotham needed him dead right now." Jim said, "Still, that's already one player out of the game." "And all the better for you," Arnold said to Jim. "What?" asked Jonathan. "Spectre, over here, he has a bit of a problem getting the job done," said Arnold, gesturing towards Jim. "I said DON'T CALL ME THAT!" said Jim loudly, "And besides, we almost killed a kid back then!" "You might have to this time, Jim," said Jonathan, "Just keep that in mind." Jim nodded slowly.

"So, who're we taking on first?" asked Marcus. "The Falcone family's been skittering through the pipes for a while now," said Jonathan, "Ever since the Joker killed Carmine. They need to be extinguished. More like maintenance, really." "Haven't done a clean-up job in a while," noted Arnold. "Well, then have fun," said Jonathan. Roger asked, "Are we going to need your techniques?" "No," said Jonathan, shaking his head, "Like Arnold said, this is just clean-up. We don't need any info they could give us. We just need them gone." "Who're we starting with?" asked Jim. "Louisa's out of the picture," said Jonathan, "She moved to Chicago after Carmine died. The big concern is Carmine's nephew, Johnny Viti. He lives on the outskirts of the underground, and he's become very interested in reviving the family. Make sure that doesn't happen." "Do we have a location on him?" asked Arnold. "This night of the week is always Johnny's strip club night," Jonathan. Marcus groaned, saying, "Aw, come on. A regular strip club is one thing, but one that's even NEAR the underground? Are we sure we can't wait?" "We could," said Jonathan, "But it'll be easier with a silencer, dark lighting, blaring rage music, and all the other guys in the room with their eyes fixed somewhere else." "Fine," said Marcus, sighing. "All right," said Jonathan, "All of you, hunt around. Once you find Johnny, get Jim to your location." He looked towards Jim, finishing, "There's more than one reason why we call you Spectre, whether you like it or not." Jim clenched his jaw, staying silent.

Jonathan walked out of the building, leaving the six other men to prepare. They all put on bulletproof vests under their shirts and took latex gloves, putting them on and grabbing their handguns as well. Once they were all ready, they walked out of the building, one by one, taking three squad cars. They traveled to the underground's border, where affluent met seedy in spectacular fashion. They all parked in front of three different clubs, with Jim and Arnold in front of the biggest. There was no one outside except for them and the guard out front. He held up a checklist, asking, "You got a membership card, or a reservation?" "No, but maybe this'll do," said Jim, flashing his badge. The guard nodded, saying, "Understood, officers." Suddenly, Arnold threw his hand over the guard's mouth while Jim put a silencer on his gun and shot the guard three times. Arnold eased the guard's fall, dragging him out of the way. Jim, the smaller of the two officers, got on Arnold's shoulders once he returned, taking out his pocketknife and cutting the cables to the outside security camera. When Jim hopped down, he looked at Arnold and ordered, "The second we're inside, get the security tapes out of the way." Arnold nodded, and they entered the club.

The deafening music made communication impossible, and the harsh bass meant Jim would have a harder time feeling his phone vibrate. In spite of this, he said to himself, "Hopefully Johnny's an extravagant kind of guy." For a few minutes, they scoured the club, even going so far as to bust open doors to private booths. Finding nothing, they met up in the center of the club, shaking their heads. When they stepped outside, Jim said, "The tapes?" Arnold took them out of his jacket. They smashed them on the pavement, setting the remains on fire using matches. Outside of the club, Jim was finally able to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. He answered, hearing Marcus' voice on the other end, saying angrily, "Where've you been? I've tried to call you three times now!" "It was a bit loud," said Jim, "Where are you?" Marcus gave him directions, and Jim and Arnold headed to their car. They followed the directions they were given, pulling up in front of another club. Marcus and Jordan were standing outside. "Have you taken care of the pleasantries?" asked Jim. Marcus gestured towards a charred heap of tape and answered, "The guard's in the alleyway." "It's a lot easier with these guns Scarecrow gave us," noted Jim, "We don't have to pull out the bullets because they're untraceable." "Yeah," said Timothy, "Now get in there. You'll find Johnny pretty easily." Jim nodded, walking inside.

Once again, the music of the club muted everything, and of course, no one took notice of Jim. Jim walked silently, smoothly maneuvering around the crowd. He barely touched anyone. Eventually, he saw Johnny Viti sitting in a booth off to the side, with two women on either side of him. Jim took out a pure white ski mask, slipping it over his head. He walked straight over to Johnny, saying as loud as he could, "Having a good night?" Johnny looked up, shouting, "Who're you?" "A friend of a friend," shouted Jim, raising his handgun and shooting Johnny in the face. The women shrieked, and Jim shouted at them, "Tell your other friends in the Falcone family: fear the Scarecrow." Jim walked out, taking off the mask and hopping into the car with Arnold. "Let's go," he said. Jim threw his gun out the car window as they sped off.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER III

The following day, there was a knock at the door around noon. I opened the door to find Barbara. She waved, saying, "Hi." "Um…hi," I said, surprised. "May I come in?" asked Barbara. "Sure," I said. Dick had apparently heard the door open, because he walked into the room. He was looking down at his phone, and he began, "Were we expecting anyone to…?" "I like making unexpected appearances," interrupted Barbara. Dick looked up, grinning and saying, "Hey, Barb." They briefly kissed, then hugged. I stood there awkwardly, leaning on my cane. When they separated, Dick asked her, "How'd you manage to get here?" "I got my driver's license recently," answered Barbara, "And my dad was doing paperwork. Even though he's been on higher alert with me ever since…recently, he's still the same, in some ways. For example, if I ask him if I can go to an unspecified friend's house, he says yes if he's caught up in work. So that's what I did." I nodded, asking, "Why'd you need to come here, anyway?" "I want to start training," answered Barbara, "I want to learn how to fight so I'll be ready when the time comes!" "Okay," I said, "We could probably do that." I looked at her shirt, saying, "And an FM Static shirt probably isn't the best, but we'll work with it. We don't have any women's workout clothes." "I would hope you wouldn't," said Barbara, grinning. "But how're you going to explain coming home looking like you just got into a fight?" I asked her, "Which you will." Barbara raised her eyebrow, shouldering her backpack and answering, "That's what this is for. It's got my gymnastics stuff in it. I'm going to practice after this, which is why we should get a move on." I nodded, saying, "All right. Get ready in the Batcave. I'll be there in a minute." Barbara grinned, running to the Batcave. Dick ran out after her, and I hobbled over as well.

When we arrived, Barbara had already found the sparring gear. She was bouncing from foot to foot, saying, "This is going to be great!" She assumed the stereotypical old-timey boxers stance, saying in an exaggerated New Jersey accent, "Put up ya dukes, the both o' ya!" Dick smirked, and I smiled, saying, "Now, because of my little back problem, it's not safe for me to spar more than twice a day. Which I've already done. So you're fighting Dick." Barbara made a gargoyle face for a second, and when she stopped, she grinned wider than before and said in a singsong voice, "Get ready, Richard." Dick put on the sparring gloves, responding, "You know, just 'cause you're a chick doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you." "I'd be disappointed if you did," said Barbara, gearing up as well. They met each other in the middle of the sparring area, and I stood off to the side, saying, "All right, as always, I want a fair fight…if possible." They began, and one of the first things that happened was that Dick accidentally punched Barbara in the left side of her chest. She groaned, saying, "Ow!" Dick grimaced, saying, "Sorry! I'm so so…!" Barbara retaliated with a sharp left hook, making Dick spin and fall on his face. He got up, rubbing his jaw. "You don't have to be sorry," said Barbara, "It hurt, but that's going to happen. Come at me." Dick smiled mischievously, grabbing Barbara's shoulder and thrusting his leg in between hers. He hooked her foot with his, making her fall backward.

"Good move, Grayson," said Barbara, getting back up, "But not good ENOUGH!" She charged towards Dick, taking his legs out from under him and pinning his arm to his back. "How's that?" she asked, smiling. Dick quickly rolled, getting Barbara off his back. They both got up, eyeing each other. Dick was standing tentatively, seeming more anxious to continue. Barbara was more relaxed, taking controlled, deep breaths. They took a few quick swings, stepping back from each other. "Getting nervous, Grayson?" asked Barbara. "Getting too confident, Gordon?" Dick retorted. Dick unexpectedly lunged and grabbed the back of Barbara's head, pulling it quickly down to his knee. Barbara squeaked in fear. Dick stopped just before her head hit his knee. He let her head go, saying, "Don't worry, we're only sparring. I'm not trying to knock you out." Barbara nodded. "But if I was, that probably would've done it," added Dick. He walked to one edge of the sparring area, and Barbara went to the opposite edge. They started over, meeting in the middle. Barbara started off with a high kick to the side of Dick's head. He caught her foot, flinging it away. Barbara quickly followed up, punching Dick in the gut. "Ugh," groaned Dick, "Nice shot." He threw different punches to different areas of Barbara's body. She managed to deflect most of them, except for one. Dick managed to strike the side of her knee, collapsing her leg. As she went down, Dick sent his right fist at her face. He stopped just an inch short. He offered Barbara his hand. She took it, standing.

For a little while longer, the back-and-forth continued, with Dick and Barbara each getting in their own victories. Dick edged out Barbara, however. I brought them both water bottles earlier, which they gulped down. Barbara finished drinking, panting and asking, "Is there a…place I can…shower and…change into my gymnastics gear?" As she caught her breath, I answered, "Sure. Alfred can show you where." "Thanks," she said, feeling refreshed. She turned to Dick, saying, "I've got to leave right after that. I'll see you later, Richard." She kissed him on the cheek, starting to walk back to the manor. Halfway out, she turned and looked back at me. "When do you think I'll use my suit for the first time?" she asked, pointing at her suit. I looked towards it. It was put on the new female mannequin in the suit rack. "I have a feeling it won't be long," I said, turning towards her with a smile. She left with a smile on her face. Dick said, "Welp, I guess I'd better freshen up too…" I interjected, "No. That can wait until after we go out." "Wait, what?" said Dick, angry, "You're not even going to tell Barb?" "You were able to perform better than she was during that sparring match," I said, "I know she's capable, but not enough. And I also know she said she could handle staying behind, but now I'm not so sure. With everything that's happened, she might've changed in more ways than one." Dick hung his head, fuming. Eventually, he raised his head again and sighed, resigned to what I'd said.

He said, "Fine. Who're we going after, anyway?" I walked over to the computers, pulling up our target's photo. "Celia Kazantkakis, otherwise known as the Athena," I answered. "Wait a minute," said Dick, "Haven't I heard of her before?" "Yes," I responded, nodding, "Before I came back to Gotham, she was hired at Wayne Enterprises. Unknown to anyone in charge, she was trying to execute a very hostile takeover. She wanted to have to company behind her organized crime career, and the only surefire way to do that was to take it over. She offed everyone that was directly above her in position, either by assassination or defamation. At that point, Lucius was pretty high up, but he didn't run Wayne Enterprises. She was real close to taking him out, but as you know, Lucius is smart. He was able to evade her attacks and expose her as the criminal she was. Of course, she was thrown into Blackgate, along with many of those who'd worked with her during that period." "How'd she get out?" asked Dick. "She has a lot of connections," I answered, "As far as where they are, it's hard to say. It'll be easier to get to her herself. Once she's back in prison, we can monitor her communications, and thereby deconstruct her empire." "So once we find her 'connections', what do we do?" asked Dick, crossing his arms. I answered, "We feed the intel to the police. They can handle it from there." "So, do we have a location on this Athena?" asked Dick. I nodded, pulling up a virtual map of Gotham.

"You'd be surprised what you can find on the underground market," I said, "Hannah found this for us." "That girl at Loser's?" asked Dick, his brow furrowed. "One and the same," I answered, "She knows how to get info. One of the customers is a valet for a popular uptown restaurant. Athena visits frequently, seemingly on 'business meetings'." Dick said, "So, tonight?" "Actually, today it's a lunch meeting," I responded, "Suit up." Suddenly, Barbara walked in, beginning, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Wayne, I almost forgot my…" She looked at the computer, finishing dejectedly, "phone." I walked up to her, sighing. "Look, it's too dangerous right now," I said. "I guess I understand," she said, "It's just…ever since what happened…I've wanted to do more." "I understand that," I said, nodding, "But I can't let you out in the field right now. After a little bit more training, you'll be right beside us, I guarantee it." Barbara nodded, grabbing her phone and saying, "Bye, Richard." She walked off again. I sighed through my nose. "Wait," I said suddenly. Barbara turned, asking, "What?" "Do you…have to go to practice?" I asked her. "Not really," answered Barbara, "I set it up myself." "Will your coach be there?" I asked. "No," she answered, "It'd just be me. Setting up a practice is basically like making a reservation." "Does it cost anything?" I asked, my arms crossed. Barbara shook her head. I sighed once more, looking at the floor and wondering if I'd regret my next decision.

"You're good with computers, from what I've heard," I said. Barbara seemed to realize what was going on, responding, "Well, yeah, a little." "That's all I need," I said, "I guess…you can stay here and help us on the computers. But that's it for now." Barbara smiled, running up to me and hugging me, saying, "Thanks, Mr. Wayne! I won't let you down!" She let go of me, running right over to the computers. "Hey, look in the drawers," said Dick, "There's some…" Barbara had already looked, and she interrupted, "REESE'S PIECES." She giggled maniacally, putting on the headset and tearing into the box of Reese's Pieces. She gave us a thumbs-up, a crazy grin plastered onto her face. "You're starting to resemble the Joker," said Dick, "You might want to calm down a little." "That's going to be hard with a box of my favorite candy in hand," she said happily. "Okay, then," I said. I walked over to the suit rack, putting on the Batman suit. Dick changed into Robin. Barbara looked at us, asking, "Can I change when you guys leave? I know I don't need it, but lounging around as Batgirl has got to be some kind of satisfying." I stared at her for a second, answering, "I…suppose." Barbara pumped her fist in the air, saying quietly, "Yes." Robin and I hopped into the Batmobile, driving off.

As we drove, we heard crunching. "Barb…" began Dick. Barbara said, "Yes, I know, but these things are so good! It takes every bit of strength I have to not dump the whole thing in my mouth!" "Okay, just…try to regulate it a little," said Dick. "Sure," responded Barbara. Dick stopped talking. On her end, Barbara turned the mic away from her mouth and dumped the rest of the candy into her mouth. After she swallowed them, she said to herself, "My strength may have failed, but boy, does weakness taste good." Unbeknownst to her, Robin and I had heard her, and we looked at each other, laughing lightly, with Barbara none the wiser.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV

As we drove, we heard rustling. "What're you…?" I began. I paused, eventually finishing, "Oh, right. Changing." "Heck yeah," we heard Barbara say. A minute later, she said, "All right. You guys are almost there." "Great!" I said thankfully, "Okay, I recently installed a software that can hack into security cams. Check the ones inside the building." "Isn't that illegal?" asked Barbara. "Do you really want to be asking _any_ questions right now?" I said urgently. Barbara shook her head quickly and said, "Right. Um…how do I use this software?" "I thought you were good with computers," I said. "Yeah, but I've never worked with this kind of program!" said Barbara, agitated. I said, "Just open it and click the button that says 'start'." "Oh," said Barbara, "I guess that's easy enough." A few seconds later, she said, "Come on, load…yay!" I smiled, saying, "Now that it's up, type in the building's address. I have it on a document on the computer." Barbara quickly found and typed in the address, and she said, "Okay, um, it's pulling up now. Got it." "Good," I said, getting out of the Batmobile nearby the restaurant and directing it elsewhere. Robin and I used our grappling hooks to get onto the roof of the restaurant. "What now?" I asked Barbara. "Okay, she's near the center of the building," said Barbara. "Perfect," I said, "There's some skylights up here." Robin and I walked over to them.

"Let's do this with style," I said, looking through the skylight down at Athena. I jumped through, my cape slowing my descent. I landed directly on Athena's table, extracting a couple hundred dollar bills from my pocket and dropping them on the table. I quipped, "I don't really take you all for the tipping kind, so I'll take the liberty." I grabbed Athena, shooting my grappling hook back onto the roof. It dragged us both up, and once I threw her onto the roof's surface, I stood up. Athena was clearly winded, and on her back. Robin put his hands on his hips and leaned over, looking her in the eyes and saying, "Hi, Athena! Maybe you can bless us with some wisdom!" "I don't know about that," I said, "I think she'd be better with her mouth shut." I spayed chloroform into her airways, and she quickly fell unconscious. I picked her up, throwing her over my shoulder. We scaled the side of the building, calling the Batmobile to us. A minute later, we were driving away from the scene. Athena was in the backseat, still unconscious. "So, what's the plan?" asked Robin. I answered, "We're going to keep her in the Batcave. Eventually, her contacts will start crawling out of the woodwork. They'll get jittery without their powerful business partner. Jittery criminals are easier to spot." "So, a waiting game, then?" said Robin. "Of course," I responded, "It'll be relaxing." "All right then," said Robin, satisfied. "Did I do well?" asked Barbara nervously. "You did fine," said Robin, "You're a big help, Barb." "Thanks," said Barbara, reassured. "See you at the manor, Barbara," I said. "You too," said Barbara. Minutes later, Robin and I were back at the manor.

We drove into the Batcave, seeing Barbara get up and take off the headset. She was in her Batgirl suit. Once we parked, Robin got out, complimenting Barbara, "You look awesome in that." Barbara ran her fingers through her hair, saying, "Thanks, Richard." "Remember not to use real names around the goddess, here," I said, taking Athena out of the car. "Did you punch her?" asked Barbara, slightly alarmed. "No," I said, scrunching up my face, "I used chloroform." "I want to use that now," said Barbara thoughtfully. I smiled, saying, "You'll get your chance. Right now, we need to wait until Athena wakes up." I went over to the computers, looking on the news. "What're you doing there?" asked Barbara. "Well, while Athena's out, I'd better check out any other things going on. We might find something else to do." "Sounds good," said Robin, "So what's going on?" "Here's something," I said, "Carmine Falcone's nephew was killed by a masked assailant. Shot in the face. The killers were really careful. Security tapes were burned to ashes, the guards were killed quietly, the guns they used were handmade and disposable, and they wore gloves. All that we really have on this thing is that the killer mentioned a 'Scarecrow'." "Ever heard of him?" asked Robin. "No," I answered, "Then again, I haven't been here that long." Barbara said, "I've heard of him. A couple years ago, anyway. Organized crime violence started increasing around that time, and my dad told me to be careful. He didn't think I knew, but I was an eavesdropper. I found out it was all about this guy they called the Scarecrow." "Why the Scarecrow?" I asked. "Thanks to my eavesdropping, I have a little idea about that too," answered Barbara, "Apparently, he scares anyone he meets senseless." "Sounds intense," I observed. Barbara nodded solemnly, and I sighed.

"Did he scare them through torture?" I asked tentatively. "No," Barbara shook her head slowly, "I heard my dad say that none of the guys he scared were hurt. I was as if he showed up, and that was enough to set them off." "Maybe he's just a really big guy," Robin proposed. Barbara shook her head yet again, saying, "No, I looked on my dad's work laptop, and…" She stopped when Robin and I turned to stare at her. "…I'm naturally nosy," Barbara defended. We stopped staring at her. Barbara continued, "Anyway, I looked on his laptop – his password is my name; it's really sweet, I think – and these guys were way beyond just being intimidated. When I say 'scared senseless', I mean babbling nonsense and crying all the time." I sighed, disappointed. "What about this?" I said, seeing another story, "Just the other day, one of Jonathan Crane's students collapsed in his office. It looks like she just keeled over. But she's in great condition." "Why's this so important?" asked Robin. "Jonathan Crane is on the list of names Joe Chill gave me. He doesn't seem like much of a threat, and Joseph hasn't really done anything to change him like the others. I don't think he's much of a concern. Right now, anyway. We should watch him." "Like, follow him everywhere?" asked Barbara. "No, we need to do it passively," I answered, "We need to get some cameras in his office somehow." "Well, you're Batman," said Robin, "You could get in tonight, right?" "I'll try," I said, sighing again.

Meanwhile, Jonathan had heard about Athena being taken. He needed to make sure none of her "business partners" would get scared and talk. First, he needed to get Able Crown out of the way. He was naturally a very tightly wound person, and seeing Athena captured by Batman would most certainly set him off sooner or later. So he needed special treatment. Jonathan picked up his phone, calling Arnold Flass. Arnold picked up, asking, "What is it this time, Scarecrow?" "Get into the GCPD's records," said Jonathan, "I need to know where Able Crown is." "All right, why?" said Arnold. "You heard about Athena, I'm sure," said Jonathan, "Well, I wouldn't want her colleagues getting nervous and finding themselves spilling to Batman. Fortunately, I have just the method." Arnold asked, "That cane of yours, right?" "Uh-huh," answered Jonathan, "Just one little spray, and the fun begins." "All right, fine then," said Arnold. "Hurry up," urged Jonathan, "I don't have all day. I have a day job. Papers to grade." "I get it!" Arnold angrily blurted, "Give me some time, for crying out loud!" Jonathan patiently waited. He just wanted to irritate Arnold. A few minutes later, Arnold returned to the phone, saying, "Here you go, Scarecrow." He rattled off the current address of Able Crown. "I'll pay Mr. Crown a visit tonight," said Jonathan, "Thank you, Arnold." Arnold sneered, "Buzz off, Scarecrow." "My pleasure," Jonathan said, hanging up. He smiled, going inside his office to grade the papers he'd mentioned to Arnold. He smiled coldly when he noticed none of them were from Zoe. "Nearly forgot," he noted jovially. He snickered to himself.

That night, both he and I were on our own missions. Shortly after Jonathan finished grading and left his office, I walked up to the window. Barbara and Dick were on the computers back at the Batcave. I said, "No sex." "You've been saying that for the past half hour," said Dick, "We get the message." "I'm just emphasizing my point," I retorted. "Don't worry, Mr. Wayne," I heard Barbara say, "Even if I wanted to have sex, my dad would find the guy somehow and shoot him. I guarantee it. You've got no worries." "I didn't think so," I said, cracking a smile, "All right, night vision." Barbara remotely activated the night vision in my helmet. I saw inside the office just fine. "Crane's probably a careful guy," I said, "I bet he has a camera somewhere…" I trailed off, looking around. "There we go," I celebrated, seeing a small camera near the back of the office. I carefully opened the window, stealthily approaching the camera. I got up beside it, taking out a concealing spray and layering it on the lens. "All right," I said, "Now it's my turn." I ripped out the camera for good measure. "Now, um…how do I…?" I stumbled over my words. Barbara sighed, instructing me on how to install the camera. A few minutes later, the job was done, and I got out as fast as possible. "How's the feed?" I asked. "Perfect," answered Barbara, "We're all set." I nodded, getting in the Batmobile.

Across town, Jonathan Crane entered Able Crown's home, having easily gotten through the guards. He walked right into his office, saying, "Did you know that one of your guards is terrified of dying by gunfire? He's not the best choice for home security, if you ask me." Crown looked up at him, saying, "Who're you? And how'd you get in?" "Who I am doesn't matter," responded Jonathan, "And I got in easily, that's how. Now, if I'm not mistaken, you're involved with a certain woman known as Athena. Is that correct?" Crown said nothing, gulping. "I guess that means 'yes'," said Jonathan, "And that means you understand the dire straits she happens to be in at this moment. Now, I know you to be a guy who cracks easily. I don't need you to let everyone know about Athena. I have connections with her too. You understand, right?" Crown quickly opened his desk drawer and withdrew a handgun, pointing it at Jonathan's face. He growled, "Don't take a step closer to me!" Jonathan held up his hands. "Okay, okay," he said, "Were you ever prone to nightmares, Able?" Crown adjusted the grip on his handgun, reluctantly stating, "Sometimes." "What were they about?" Jonathan inquired. Crown didn't answer. "Even better," said Jonathan, smirking and opening his cane. Jonathan released the gas. Crown inhaled it, shouting, "What's this stuff?! What'd you do to me?!" "You'll find out," answered Jonathan, stepping back a couple feet. Crown suddenly heard an inhuman growl. He looked to his left to see a large, black dog, with glowing red eyes and a gaping mouth full of serrated teeth. He shot at it, but the bullets didn't seem to harm it. "No, no…" he whimpered. The dog lunged, its teeth digging into Crown's chest. He screamed as he felt blood seep from his chest. The dog withdrew its teeth, only to reveal that it had his heart clamped between its jaws. He screamed once more. Meanwhile, Jonathan watched him writhe. He turned and walked out as Crown wailed with a pain that was only in his mind.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I AM IN THE PROCESS OF MOVING INTO A NEW HOUSE, AND AS CONSEQUENCE MY WRITING SCHEDULE HAS BEEN SEVERELY IMPEDED. I WILL ATTEMPT TO UPDATE KOG AS REGULARLY AS POSSIBLE, BUT IT'S HARD TO SAY WHEN I'LL BE ABLE TO GET IN A NEW MOT CHAPTER.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER V

Dick and I had decided to stay up late after Barbara left. We were watching Adult Swim and drinking Mountain Dew, not wanting anything to happen. Suddenly, we heard Alfred say, "I'm afraid South Park will have to wait, Master Wayne." I turned, looking at Alfred. He was standing by a window, and he gestured for me to look outside. I sighed when I saw my logo flash across the night sky. "Crime waits for no man, or something," I grumbled, "Come on, Dick." We shut off the TV, heading to the Batcave and putting on our suits. Getting into the Batmobile, we watched as Alfred began to man the computers. Driving off, I noticed my phone buzzing. I picked up, hearing Jim Gordon begin, "You on your way?" "Yes," I responded, "What's happening?" "Got a guy named Able Crown in a holding cell," answered Jim, "Ever heard of him?" "He's a low-level crime lord," I confirmed. "Yeah," said Jim, "And a suspected friend of Athena's." "That's perfect," I chirped, "How'd you get him?" "You see, that's the thing," sighed Jim, "It's not as perfect as you might think. We got a call from his house not too long ago. It was just him blubbering about how he didn't remember something, and then the call dropped. When we found him, he was passed out, covered in sweat, and shivering. He's not doing much better in here, either. You'd better see for yourself." I sighed, hanging up. "I think this is Scarecrow's work," I fumed. Robin groaned with exasperation, growling, "I want this guy bad." "You and me both," I said quietly. We arrived at the GCPD's HQ shortly thereafter.

Just before we walked in, Robin called Barbara, saying, "Hey, Barb. Find any excuse to get over to the GCPD's HQ. I'll see you a in a few." He hung up, and we walked inside. Jim met us at the front. He shook Robin's hand, saying, "You're…shorter than I expected." Robin said quietly, "I'm…getting there." Despite the awkward exchange, Jim kept his usual manner and turned to me, saying, "It'll be pretty easy to find him." "Why?" I asked. "Because he's so loud," Jim responded grudgingly. I stopped and listened for a second. I could already hear some kind of cacophony from inside the HQ. We walked deeper inside, the sound getting louder by the second. We found Able Crown's cell quickly. Inside, Crown was yelling incoherently, kicking the cell bars and looking around frantically, as if he was trying to escape. Through all the thrown-together gibberish, I was able to make out, "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" "So…" I thought out loud, "He's not trying to escape from the cell itself. It's something inside the cell…" "Huh?" asked Robin. I spoke over Crown as best I could, telling Robin, "It's as if Crown's trying to get out of the cell because of something inside of it." "But there's…" began Robin. "Exactly," I said. Suddenly, Crown calmed down, looking towards me. He pressed his face in between two bars, his eyes looking wilder than before. "You can see it too?" he said shakily. Robin and I looked at each other, thinking about how to respond to Crown's mad question.

I took a step forward, saying, "Yes, Able, I see it." "Then you know I have to get out of here!" Crown pleaded, extending his hands, "It won't stay where it is for much longer! I know it!" "Okay, I'll see what I can do," I said slowly, "Just give me a second." "Hurry!" hissed Crown. I stepped back, turning towards Jim. I said, "This is different from previous cases, isn't it?" "Yes," said Jim, nodding, "Usually, the guys Scarecrow attacked would eventually calm down. There'd be residual effects, but nothing too serious. This seems much worse." "Do you know what's causing the difference?" I asked. Jim shook his head, sighing, "It could be physiological differences from victim to victim, or it could be that Scarecrow upped the dosage." "Well, my guess is that Scarecrow didn't want him spilling anything about Athena," I said. I turned and walked back over to Crown. At this point, he had his back pressed up against the side of the cell. I walked up right behind him, asking, "Is it still there, Able?" "Well, of course!" Crown said angrily, "I thought you said you could see it!" "I can," I said, scrambling for an explanation, "But…it's harder for me to see." "At least you can," said Crown, "Unlike these #$ %ING COPS!" Robin walked up to me and asked, "What exactly is he seeing?" Though he was fairly quiet, Crown could still hear him, and he shouted, "I've already told them, IT'S A DOG!" Robin walked over to the side of the cell. "Judging from where his eyes are, it's pretty big, too," he observed. I joined Robin on the side of the cell, looking in.

Suddenly, Barbara Gordon stepped in. Jim turned at looked at her, and he asked, "Barbara? What're you doing here?" Barbara paused, eventually saying, "Well, I…I just saw the Bat-Signal, 'cause I'd decided to stay up a little later, I and I thought maybe I could…talk to Batman?" She was obviously nervous, but her bewildered father wasn't focusing on her tone. He lightly gripped her shoulders, saying, "Barbara, you can't. You know what your mother would say." "I know," Barbara stated dejectedly, "But I just want to see them again!" "Look, you're going to have to go back home," sighed Jim. He kissed her on the forehead, saying, "I love you, Barbara. I'll have one of the officers here take you home…" Robin interrupted, "Um, sir? If it's not too much to ask, could I…escort her home?" Jim looked towards me. I nodded. Jim sighed again, saying, "Batman trusts you, so I guess I do too. Be careful with her." "Of course, Mr. Gordon," said Robin happily. Robin led Barbara outside, and Jim and I followed them. "Hey!" said Jim loudly as they walked away. Robin turned, saying, "Yes, sir?" "If you try anything," said Jim, "Well…just remember I have a gun." "Duly noted," said Robin shakily. "I'll see you at home, Dad," said Barbara, "Love you." Robin put his arm around Barbara, whispering, "Hold on tight, Barb." She quickly latched on to Robin, and he fired his grappling hook into the side of a nearby building, which drew them both up. I listened in using my intercom, and discovered that Robin was explaining the situation to Barbara.

I smiled. _Good thinking, Dick,_ I thought. Jim was still staring in the direction they'd gone off in. "Don't worry," I said to him, "He won't try anything. I've already talked to him about it. Numerous times." I turned and walked back inside, smiling. Jim walked inside right behind me. I walked back up to Crown again. And once again, he'd moved to another part of the cell, keeping his eyes on the "dog" the whole time. I asked him, "How'd the dog get here?" "I don't know!" said Crown, seemingly outraged that I'd ask such a trivial question, "I just woke up in my house, and there it was! Somehow, it got in my office. And it must've followed us here!" "You just woke up in your house?" I inquired, furrowing my brow, "How do you mean?" Crown stuttered, "Well, I…it…I-I don't remember. I ju…I woke up on my office floor. I think I woke up. Was I even asleep?" Crown seemed to calm down, but at the same time, it seemed he was suffering severe emotional distress. I sighed heavily, walking over to Jim and saying, "We're not going to get anything out of him. He's a basket case now." Jim nodded, turning to some other officers and saying, "Get him out of there. He needs to go to Arkham's psychiatric wing." The officers did as they were told, unlocking the cell and getting Crown out. He was obviously relieved, but his eyes were still fixed on a spot on the floor of the cell. He kicked at the air once, indicating that the "dog" had walked out of the cell.

I walked out, getting into the Batmobile and driving away. As I drove, I suddenly heard Robin saying something to Barbara. I shut off my intercom immediately. It wasn't my conversation. At the Gordon's house, Robin had safely gotten Barbara into her bedroom. He said, "Well, I'd better get back to the Batcave…" He trailed off nervously. "What is it?" Barbara giggled. "It's just…you know, it's your bedroom, and all," Robin said awkwardly, "Not exactly the best place for me to be." "Ah, don't worry, Mr. Wayne's given us enough warnings," said Barbara, grinning. Robin laughed lightly, responding, "Yeah, he has. And you know, you can call him Bruce. You're not just Barbara Gordon anymore. You're Batgirl. And that makes you part of our family. So don't waste your time with all the 'Mr. Wayne' stuff." Barbara was pleasantly taken aback, looking at the floor and smiling. "Thanks," she said quietly, hugging Robin. "Hey, hey, let's not let one thing lead to another, here," said Robin, laughing. "I have a Taser under my bed," said Barbara, her voice muffled by Robin's shoulder, "That won't happen." Robin coughed awkwardly. "A gift from your dad, I take it," said Robin. Barbara drew back, her hands on Robin's shoulders. She responded, "Yes." Robin nodded, taking off his mask and lightly kissing Barbara. "Good night," he said, "I love you." "I love you too, Richard," said Barbara. "You'd better get back to bed," said Robin, putting his mask back on, "You never know when we're going to spar next." He jumped out the window, firing his grappling hook and swinging on it. Barbara leaned out her window, saying to herself, "I'll win someday." She smiled, watching her boyfriend jump across the rooftops of Gotham.

Meanwhile, Jonathan Crane was returning to his office. He looked up at the wall to see the camera I'd put in. He squinted. Something was off. He got up to the camera, inspecting it closely. "Close, but no cigar," he said, dismantling the camera. He looked at it, saying, "You'd better be more careful when you're dealing with me." He chuckled, throwing the camera into the trash. Crane had successfully taken out my attempt at surveillance. But that wasn't what I was concerned with at that time. I was over at Gotham General Hospital, inside of Zoe Feldman's room. "Hey," I said sharply. Zoe jumped awake. She looked towards me, gasping with fear. "I'm not here to hurt you," I assured her, "I just need to ask you a few questions." Zoe nodded slowly. I walked over to her bed, asking, "Do you remember what happened to you?" "No," said Zoe, shaking her head, "I just walked into my psych professor's office…I don't remember why I was there…but anyway, I just…fell over, I guess." "Did you…see anything after you woke up?" I asked cautiously. I didn't want to set her off if she had. She looked straight ahead, thinking. Eventually, she responded, "No. I don't think so." I looked down at the floor, seeing dried, dead flower petals. I picked one up, asking, "Where'd these come from?" "My professor brought them," she answered, "I thought he hated me, but I guess I was wrong." I furrowed my brow. There was something in the way she was talking that was amiss.

"Who's your professor?" I asked. Zoe paused. "Um…" she began. She stopped, saying, "I'm sorry. It's just…I know his name, but I don't want to say it. And I don't know why. Why don't I know why?" The realization of the terrible state she was in caused her to break down into tears. I left, speaking into my intercom, "Alfred. I think I have something." I left Zoe crying in her hospital bed, getting back into the Batmobile and heading to the manor.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI

When I got back to the Manor, Robin was there, standing guard over Athena. He had a package of Sour Patch Kids in his hand, and he lightly chucked a couple into his mouth as I got out of the Batmobile. I asked, "She's not awake to see you with your mask off, is she?" "Ah, you don't have to worry about that," responded Robin, holding up a bottle of chloroform. "Good," I said, "Now, as I've said before, all that's left to do is wait. We'll be able to catch her friends soon enough." "Unless Scarecrow gets to the rest of them first," objected Robin. I nodded, conceding, "Yeah. He's going to be a big problem. It's likely he does business with Athena too. But maybe she didn't tell him about all her business partners. Criminal politics can get complicated." "Well, I think that she's been doing this long enough that an interrogation wouldn't work," Robin observed. "You're probably right," I nodded, "She'd be willing to take her trade secrets to the grave, from what I've heard of her. We just have to hope that one of her friends gets skittish too quickly for Scarecrow to catch him. And speaking of Scarecrow…" I tried pulling up the feed from the camera I'd planted in his office, but all I got was white noise and static. I sighed, "Great. I figured. I guess it was worth a shot, but without any good footage, we can't incriminate him. He's probably gotten rid of the camera by now. And if we tried to say anything to him about it, he'll just claim he's a naturally paranoid person, and everybody will believe him. He's going to be hard to take down." "And how do you think he gasses his victims?" asked Robin. "I don't know yet," I mused. I sighed heavily, saying, "All right, let's get to bed for now. Athena will be here when we wake up, and so will her friends…hopefully." We each changed into plain clothes and turned in for the night.

The following morning, Dick and I ate a light breakfast and immediately started studying who might be in alliance with Athena. We searched police databases with info Barbara sent to us, sorting through each and every gang leader in Gotham city. The hours were long and the work was tedious, but eventually, we got the list down to about thirty key players in the city. By then it was around four o' clock, and Dick and I were just staring at the list we had. I sighed, saying, "Now we just have to see who could be in with Scarecrow. Or at least, anyone he could know about." We sifted through our much smaller sample, hacking off another twenty suspects. Finally, we were left with the few who Scarecrow either didn't suspect or was saving for last. "All right," I said, satisfied, "Now all we have to do is make sure Scarecrow isn't what sets them off. Now, let me see here…" I took out my phone. "What is it?" asked Dick curiously. I answered, "Barbara sent me a program that'll let me know if these guys pop up in the news. If one of them is attacked by Scarecrow or they fess up at the police station, I'll know." "Well, if they do go to the police station, wouldn't that mean your work is done?" asked Dick, shrugging, "I mean, if they confess themselves…" I interrupted, "They probably won't say everything they know. They'll only tell what they think is enough for a deal with the GCPD. They'll need a little more persuasion in order to get the full story."

Robin nodded, saying, "So, what do we do now?" "Well, there's been no Batsignal lately," I said, "I guess that means…now it's about time for dinner." "That's sounds good, with the day we've had," said Dick expectantly, "What's on the menu today?" "Pizza, I think," I answered. "That's not a usual Alfred move," said Dick, "What's brings this change of cuisine?" "A very special guest, that's what," I said. "You mean…?" Dick already knew the answer. He pumped his fists, running out of the Batcave as he shouted, "Is she already here?!" "Yes," I shouted in answer, grinning widely. Dick sprinted all the way back to the manor, and he almost went through the door. He stopped, however, just before he opened the front door. He looked down at himself. He was wearing a Being As An Ocean merch shirt and sickly-bright red pajama pants, along with fuzzy white slippers. He sniffed at his underarms, recoiling. "Aw, man," he said, disappointed, "I can't let her see me like this!" He ran to his window, saying, "Please be open." He opened it, jumping through. He quickly took a shower, put on fresh clothes and cologne, and sprayed breath freshener on his tongue. Before he went out of his room, he dried his hair and made it look a little more tousled. He sighed in anticipation, nodding and saying to himself, "Good man, Dick. Good man." He walked out of his room with a smug smile on his face. He walked into the living room, seeing Barbara on the couch with a mug of A&W cream soda. She turned at the sound of his footsteps, smiling and saying, "I like your PJ pants, Richard." Dick clenched his jaw and gulped, saying, "Y-you saw those?" Barbara nodded, smiling. "Don't worry," she said, gesturing with her head, "You're not too uncool for me. You should see my PJ pants…actually, no you shouldn't. That'd be a little creepy." "I know that for sure," said Dick, chuckling lightly and sitting down next to Barbara.

Dick sniffed the air, sighing happily and saying loudly, "That smells really good, Alfred!" "Of course it does," said Alfred, "It's not as though talents such as mine fade easily!" "I know that more than anyone else," I said, walking into the room wearing day clothes. "But I left before you did…" said Dick dejectedly. "I just went through the front," I said. Dick sighed heavily through his nose, saying, "Well…anyway, how'd you convince your parents to let you come here, Barb?" "It didn't take that much," she answered, "I just told them I'm visiting a friend's house, and besides, my dad was busy with work and my mom was playing with Adriana and Brittany. They both said yes." "Does your dad know about me yet?" asked Dick. Barbara shook her head, "Not yet. I figure I could break the news when we're both in college." "Makes sense, makes sense," nodded Dick. "Well, with all that aside," Alfred said in a satisfied manner, "Dinner is served!" We all went into the dining room to see two steaming pizzas, one topped with numerous varieties of meat and the other with all kinds of vegetables. Alfred gestured to the all-meat pizza, saying, "Now over here, we have wild boar, Japanese quail, ostrich, and a little bit of calamari, among other things." He switched to the veggie pizza, continuing, "And here, we have several varieties of Italian-grown olives and bok choy, along with yet again, other things. I have an old friend in the food business. Enjoy!" All of us got two slices each, one of the meat pizza and one of the veggie pizza. I took a bite, nodding to confirm it was delicious.

Alfred got a couple pieces for himself, munching on it absentmindedly. He nodded as well, saying, "I think I might've outdone myself this time." "I think I just heard a tear in the universe open up in the bathroom," said Dick with a grin. "Oh, please," said Alfred, walking off to the bar, "If there's a spot where the space-time continuum would rupture, it would be directly under your bed, Master Grayson." Dick laughed lightly, but his smile dissolved quickly and he asked me, "He's kidding, right?" "There's a lot about him even I don't know," I said, "Who knows?" Dick shook it off, saying, "At least I have pizza to calm my fears." Barbara put her head up against Dick's shoulder, saying, "Aw, but you're cute when you're scared." "I don't think that's a good thing," said Dick. "Maybe not," said Barbara, sighing, "If only it was." She nibbled on one of her pizza slices. "All right, let's join Alfred at the bar," I said, walking to the bar. Dick said, "Uh, Bruce? Barbara and I are only sixteen." "Don't sweat it," I said, "Where do you think Barbara got that cream soda?" "I wasn't told about this," said Dick, taken aback. He power-walked past me as he munched on his pizza, reaching the bar faster than me. He saw the new cream soda on tap, saying loudly, "No way! This is great!" He immediately grabbed a large mug, filling it to the brim with soda. He took a drink, saying, "Delicious. When'd you get this?" "Yesterday," answered Alfred, "I knew the drinks we already had weren't appropriate for someone your age, so this was the next step." "Thanks, Alfred," said Dick. Alfred raised his glass of Bacardi, smiling in response and clinking his class on Dick's mug.

Fortunately for us, nothing happened while we ate, so we managed to finish our meal. _Unfortunately_ , something happened immediately afterwards. My phone beeped loudly, and I took it out of my pocket, looking at the notification. "Hey," I said, "It's time. Barbara, we're going to need you on the computers. Dick, we have to go. One of the guys on our list just turned himself in." Dick nodded, and Barbara said, "You got it." Alfred asked, "May I be of assistance, Master Wayne?" "All you need to do is make sure we have coffee waiting for us," I said. Alfred nodded, saying, "I suppose that's a logical course of action." We all got up and out of the manor. Barbara, Dick, and I all went out to the Batcave. Dick and I changed into our suits while Barbara prepared herself at the computers. "By the way," I said, putting my mask on, "we got you some more Reese's Pieces." Barbara gasped happily, saying, "Really? Yay!" She looked in the drawer, laughing deviously and extracting a box. "Wow, there's so much in here I could eat till I die," Barbara observed nonchalantly. "I'm not sure that'd be possible, but don't try," said Dick, evidently alarmed by his girlfriend's change in behavior. When we finished changing, Robin and I jumped into the Batmobile, driving off. "Okay," I said, "Is the guy out yet, Barbara?" Barbara clicked through the feeds of the security cams in the GCPD headquarters. "No," she said, "It looks like he wants to be put in a cell, alone." "I think that confirms our suspicions," I said, "Crown being attacked might've been too much for whatever bravery this guy had." We pulled up the HQ soon enough, hopping out of the car.

We dashed inside, running towards our guy. He was saying loudly, "Come on, you've got to lock me up! I'll tell you anything you want! Just put me in a cell! I only ask for a few hours, at least!" Jim was standing there, saying, "Look, I can't hold you without cause." The guy pulled out a gun, saying, "I'll give you a cause, you bas…!" I interrupted him by clocking him across the jaw, knocking him to the ground in unconsciousness. I took his gun, disassembling it and handing it to Jim. "You're welcome," I said quickly, throwing the guy over my shoulder. "Mind if I borrow him?" I asked. I was going to take him whatever the answer was. "I have your guarantee that he'll come back alive, right?" said Jim. "As long as he doesn't decide to change that, yes," I said. Jim said, "Fine. Go, now." I quickly rushed the guy back to the Batmobile, throwing him in the trunk (which Robin had previously instructed me on how to open). We got in the front, driving off. "We're on our way back, Batgirl," said Robin. "Perfect," said Barbara, her mouth full, "I'll see you back here." Robin chuckled, saying, "She's awesome." "Yeah, I just wish she didn't chew so loud," I said, rubbing my ear. Robin smiled underneath his mask.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER VII

When we arrived at the Batcave, Barbara welcomed us by exclaiming, "Hey!" I recoiled, saying, "Barbara, remember to move the mic _away_ from your mouth." "I'm so sorry!" said Barbara, embarrassed. "Ah, it's okay," said Robin, "I did it my first time with that thing on, too." "All right, come on, Robin," I said, "Help me get this guy out from the Batmobile." Robin walked up to me, helping me out with our limp prisoner. We tied him up to another chair directly across from Athena, waiting for him to wake up. "So, who is this guy, anyway?" asked Barbara quietly. "You don't have to whisper," I said, "But anyway, he's Frenchy Blake." "I don't want to know how he got that nickname," said Robin, shaking his head emphatically, "Not one bit." "He specializes in smuggling jewels, I think," I continued, "Been around for a while." Frenchy began to stir, and Robin almost lunged forward with the chloroform. "No," I said, grabbing his arm, "I want to see what he has to say. Barbara, change into Batgirl, quick!" Barbara ran to another area of the Batcave, coming back a minute later as Batgirl. She ran over to Robin, lifting up her cape and saying, "Richard, zip up my back." Barbara's back was almost completely exposed, and Robin looked towards me, stuttering, "B-but…" "Just do it!" hissed Barbara. "Fine," said Robin nervously, zipping up her suit. "Thanks," said Barbara, "But don't hesitate next time." Robin looked like he wanted to say something, but he refrained.

Frenchy woke up with my face right in front of his. "Had a good nap?" I asked immediately. Frenchy tried to jump, but he couldn't with the restraints we'd put on him. He looked down at his hands and feet, saying, "Well, &#$%. You've done me up well." "You might have a worse mouth than Deathstroke," said Batgirl, "Watch yourself." I furrowed my brow, looking back towards Batgirl. She shrugged, saying, "Hey, if we just let them curse all over the place, think about what they could start doing next!" I sighed, turning back towards Frenchy and saying, "Sorry about that." "It's okay," said Frenchy, looking towards Batgirl, "A girl that cute can only mean well." He smiled creepily, and Barbara responded with, "Do you know how to scissor kick? 'Cause I do." Frenchy's smile melted, and he turned back to me. "What do you want?" he challenged. "Info," I answered, "What else?" "You going to torture me?" asked Frenchy. "No," I responded, standing up straight, "I bet even if I did, you'd cave _really_ quickly." Frenchy seemed indignant, but he didn't say anything. I continued, "No. No torture. But you know, I hear the Scarecrow runs his field well. The way I see it, to him you're just another feathered pest. You want me to throw you out to him, or the police?" "Police, definitely," said Frenchy frantically. "Then that info I want had better come out quickly," I said intensely. "I get it, I get it," said Frenchy, "What exactly do you want to know?" I walked over to our computers.

I turned them on, pulling up the list of possible suspects for being in league with Athena and Scarecrow. I turned back to Frenchy, saying, "I need you to tell me who's in league with her," I pointed to Athena, "and who's in league with Scarecrow." Frenchy hesitated. I sighed again, saying, "Robin, get him back into the Batmobile. We'll drop him off in an alley somewhere." "No, wait, WAIT!" said Frenchy. I looked him in the eye, saying, "This is the third time. No more chances." "All right," said Frenchy. He told us which ones weren't working with either of them, and those who were just working with one or the other. That left us with about three, and I said, "Good. That's all we needed. And now that that's finished…" I trailed off, turning towards Robin and tossing him the Batmobile's keys. "Really?" he said, widening his eyes. "Yes, really," I said, "But you hit another bird, and never again." "What do you mean, 'hit another'…" began Batgirl. "Nothing," Robin and I said simultaneously. Robin looked at the keys, saying, "Actually…maybe I could just throw him over the back of my motorcycle." "You have a motorcycle?!" asked Batgirl, leaning forward. "Yeah," Robin answered, "Pretty hot, right?" "Only a little bit," said Batgirl, "They're not as safe." Robin rolled his eyes, going over to Frenchy and untying him. I punched Frenchy in the face again, knocking him out. "Help me out here," said Robin, dragging Frenchy by his underarms. I helped Robin lift him up over the back of the motorcycle, laying him down gently. Robin hopped in the front, taking off his mask and putting on his helmet. He sped off, and left a cloud of dust within a few seconds.

I turned towards Batgirl, saying, "You did well today." "Thanks," she smiled, "I'll go change back real quick." She went away, coming back a little later and putting her suit on her suit rack. "So, what are we doing with her?" she asked, looking towards Athena. "We'll keep her here until the rest of her operation is dismantled, then turn her in to the police," I answered, "The last thing we need is to have her operating it from prison." "I hope that disgusting Frenchy guy goes away for a long time," Barbara growled. "You and me both," I said, putting my hand on Barbara's shoulder. "Remember, you're a member of the Bat Family," I reassured her, "You're a big part of this." Barbara looked up at me, saying, "Thanks. I need to go. See you later. Tell Richard bye for me!" "You got it," I said, giving her a thumbs-up as she walked out. I took off my suit and put it on my suit rack, grabbing my cane and heading for the manor. I walked inside, saying, "Hey, Alfred! Is that coffee ready?" Alfred was standing right next to me, and he said calmly, "Master Wayne, I thought you'd known me for a longer time." He was holding a platter with mugs of coffee on it. Relieved, I said thankfully, "You're a lifesaver, Alfred." "If you knew me in my younger days, you'd know just how true that is," quipped Alfred. He looked around suddenly, puzzled. "What?" I wondered. "Where's Master Grayson?" Alfred asked. "Taking out the trash," I answered. Alfred furrowed his brow.

A few seconds later, he nodded suddenly, saying with a smile, "Of course. Delivering a newly-beaten scoundrel to the police?" "Yep," I said, "Using his motorcycle, too." "It would seem our young friend is getting into the swing of things as the days roll on," Alfred observed. "Sure," I said, "I'm not sure it's such a good thing all the time, though." "Whatever could that mean, Master Wayne?" asked Alfred. "Dick _is_ getting into the swing of things," I said, sitting down at the dining table, "But when will that stop? Will it stop at all? I mean, being Robin for even a couple years before college might evolve into something else. There might come a day when he tells me he wants to become Batman! And then…" Alfred finished for me, "And then you can't protect him." "…Yeah," I whispered, staring at my coffee. Alfred sighed understandingly, sitting next to me. "Look me in the eye, Bruce," said Alfred seriously. I did as he asked, seeing Alfred's earnest sympathy. "Master Wayne, I know exactly how you're feeling," said Alfred, "And the reason why is because I felt the same way about you. When you turned thirteen, I thought to myself, 'That's it. Before I know it, this young boy is going to be gone, and then he'll have no one to take care of him'. But then I had to take a step back and realize what I was really feeling. I was being selfish, in all honesty. I wanted to be the one who took care of you. But I needed to realize that you would be able to take care of yourself." "I didn't take care of myself all that well," I said. Alfred nodded in agreement.

He looked at me again, saying, "True. But you grew from all that. That's what I needed to know most of all. If I stayed by your side every minute of every day, you'd never grow. You'd never learn things for yourself. It's the same with Master Grayson. You shouldn't worry so much about him. He knows the risk, and he _will_ grow from all his experiences. I say, if he does ask you for the mantle of the Dark Knight, then you may as well give it to him. I believe it would be a sign of growth." Just then, the front door clicked open, and we heard a raucous young voice shout, "That's another one in the joint!" Dick walked over to us, saying, "Hey, Bruce. Thanks for letting me use my bike. It needs some miles on it, and this was a perfect opportunity." "You'll get to do it more, believe me," I assured him. Dick smirked, saying, "I'm going to go play Xbox. Care to join me?" I nodded, saying, "Why not? Alfred, you want to come?" "No, I'm afraid not," replied Alfred, "I have other things to attend to." "Like what?" I asked. As Alfred walked off, he answered, "Netflix, of course. I still haven't finished Breaking Bad." Dick and I both smiled after him, turning and going to play video games.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was angry. He called Roger DeCarlo, saying, "Our last targets from Athena's organization are in jail! Why couldn't you have worked faster!" "Lest you forget, Scarecrow," growled DeCarlo, "we've still got the remaining Falcone family members to take care of! We can't work as fast with two sets of targets!" Jonathan seethed in frustration. He resisted the urge to chuck his phone into the ground. DeCarlo calmed down, saying, "It doesn't seem like a big deal to me. We can just whack them in jail, right? We have connections in there!" "I doubt it," responded Jonathan, "We try to poison them, everyone will suspect several men in comparatively good health just dropping off suddenly. And even if we had good connections in jail, somebody would still be able to trace it back to us. I can't take any risks." "Then why are you so angry?" asked DeCarlo. "Because!" said Jonathan. He sighed heavily, continuing, "Look, just…focus on the Falcone family. I've got another call to make." He hung up without waiting for a response, dialing another number while grumbling, "Insufferable underling, I ought to douse with my cane…" He finished dialing the number, putting his phone up to his ear and listening to the repeating dial tone.

Cerberus finally picked, saying, "What is it this time?" "I need backup," said Jonathan, "Batman is giving me more trouble than before. I need to get to my targets before he does. If I fail at that, he'll stop all my efforts, and Joseph's plan will be defeated." "Joseph's way too careful," said Cerberus, "He has backup plans for everything. But even so, I'm getting tired of Batman too. And despite how creepy you really are, you're an asset to Joseph." "You make me sound like an object," interjected Jonathan. "You're not much of an excuse for a man anyway," Cerberus shot back. Jonathan conceded, "Touché. But anyway, are you going to get that backup to me?" "Fine," said Cerberus, "I guess you'll need it." "I'll be expecting them by tomorrow," Jonathan said, "And don't just throw in those pathetic red units. Send in some gold units, too." "The disciples are valuable tools, Scarecrow," said Cerberus, "I can't just give you everyone of them you want." "Well, then, I guess you don't need my help," said Jonathan. Cerberus said, "All right, I get it." Jonathan hung up. Cerberus sighed, going to get Somnus so he could send the soldiers Jonathan needed, growling curses under his breath the whole way.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I KNOW THAT EVERYTHING HAS BEEN REALLY ERRATIC AND LATE AND EVERYTHING, BUT I HAVE TO SAY THAT I'M TRULY THANKFUL FOR FFN AND ALL MY WONDERFUL FOLLOWERS. YOU GUYS ARE MY FRIENDS (AND MY CHARACTERS LOVE YOU TOO) AND THE REASON I CAN EVEN KEEP UPDATING. NOT ONLY THAT, I'M ALSO THANKFUL FOR MY SAVIOR AND MY CHURCH FAMILY, EARLY COLLEGE, AND THE STRANGE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. SAY WHAT YOU'RE THANKFUL FOR IN YOUR REVIEW, AND HAVE YOURSELF A HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON!


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII

The following day, the police had already begun destructing Athena's vast empire. This was causing Jonathan and his acquaintances considerable trouble, so they met in a bar in downtown Gotham. There was another guest, however. The six corrupt cops that Jonathan worked with found a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair sitting next to Jonathan. The bar they were meeting in was near the underground and rarely frequented by more law-abiding individuals, so they were naturally wary. "Who's this guy?" asked Arnold. Jonathan answered, "Joseph calls him Cerberus." "What's his real name?" pressed Arnold. He didn't like being left in the dark. Cerberus answered, "I understand that you want to know about who you're working with, Flass, but I'm afraid my name will have to remain confidential. Unless you want to keep asking, and risk making Joseph angry." Arnold reluctantly shut up, sitting down. The other five sat down, filling up what space was left. "So…Cerberus," Corrigan said, "What brings you into our little circle?" "You guys need help, that's why," Cerberus said, voicing what Corrigan already knew. He continued, "You saw how well Batman was able to dismantle the Athena family, even when you took out several of the big players. The simple fact is, you need more men on your side. Joseph has plenty, and he's willing to give some to you." "So, you're going to be with us?" asked Jordan. "Not me," Cerberus shook his head, "But my friend Erebus will. He's already been planted into the CSI office." Cerberus took out his phone, showing his allies Erebus' face.

"You have any troubling evidence that doesn't need to see the light of day, go to this guy," continued Cerberus, "He's hard to miss anyway." "What about _his_ name?" asked Corrigan, "It's not like we could go around calling this guy Erebus." Cerberus answered, "True. Call him Devin. And no, that's not his real name either." "Joseph is kind of secretive, don't you think?" Roger said. "Yes, but as you know, he pays his men well," Jonathan countered, "It'd be best if you didn't question him. He has plenty of resources." The men stopped asking questions about Joseph and his men, opting to stay safe. Cerberus tapped a few buttons on his phone, saying, "I've sent you all the cover names for your new friends. Remember to use them, and don't look suspicious." "Ah, you know u…" Roger stopped. "Wait, how'd you get our numbers?" he asked, slightly outraged. "Like Scarecrow here said, Joseph has plenty of resources," answered Cerberus, "Lots of ways to obtain information, such as all the ways to contact all six of you." All six of the men were perturbed at this news, realizing that if they had Joseph to fear, then there was nowhere they could hide if he came after them. Arnold gulped, asking, "So, is that it?" "Yes," answered Cerberus, "…For right now." Cerberus stood up and walked out. "Creepy guy," Corrigan said after Cerberus had left. Jonathan responded, "Watch what you say. One of Joseph's men might be here right now." Knowing full well how true Jonathan's statement could be, the six men looked around, and every man and even woman became a threat to them. Jonathan said, "If you're finished fearing for your lives, listen up. We're still not finished with the Falcone family. I've got a new target for you." He gave them their assignment and exited.

Once he was outside, he bumped into a man wearing a large black trench coat. Jonathan said, "Hey, watch i…" He looked up at who he'd bumped into. "Sorry," he finished, "I didn't mean for that outburst, Mr…?" "Wayne," I finished for him, "Bruce Wayne. And you are?" "Jonathan Crane," Jonathan answered, "Professor of psychology at Gotham University." "Oh, I've heard of you," I said, nodding, "Pretty young for your position." "Yeah, people have said that since I started," smirked Jonathan, "But I do a good job. My students are usually pretty good studies." "Oh, yeah, that reminds me, how's your student Zoe doing?" I asked. Jonathan shrugged, "Pretty good, or so I've heard. She's staying with her folks for now, at least." "Glad to hear she's out of the hospital," I said. "So am I, believe me," Jonathan responded earnestly. His eyes didn't even give off a hint of deceit. He continued, "Well, I have to be going, so…I guess I'll see you around." "You just might," I smiled slyly. Jonathan turned and walked away. I sighed, walking back towards my car, where Alfred was already sitting in the driver's seat and Dick and Barbara were in the back. I sighed again as I got in and closed the passenger-side front door. "So, what was that all about?" asked Barbara. "I needed to see if I could try to incriminate him with his body language, or something," I answered, "If I could, then I'd use it later and take him down as Batman. But…there was just nothing. Absolutely no sign for me to pick up on." "So, then what?" asked Dick. "The only way we'll ever get him is if we catch him dealing with criminals personally," I answered, "Let's go." Alfred started up the car, and we headed back.

Before we went inside the manor, a doubtful Barbara asked, "Do you think we'll ever get him?" "Why do you ask?" I responded. Barbara hesitantly said, "W-well…we never got Deathstroke, and the Joker succeeded before you got him into jail. What if we fail again? What if Scarecrow gets away? What if he terrorizes someone like…like White Knight terrorized me?" I had to answer her, but I wasn't sure how to do it. I searched for the words, but Alfred saved me by answering, "We won't fail, Miss Gordon. We have you, after all." Though it didn't seem like the statement comforted her much, Barbara smiled. "I've got to head home," she said, "Bye, everyone. Love you guys!" She kissed Dick on the cheek and ran off towards her father's car, which she'd borrowed, while waving back to us. We waved back as she pulled out of the driveway. "Now what, Master Wayne?" asked Alfred, "Are you ready?" "Yeah," I said, heading to the Batcave. Dick caught up with me, asking, "Hey, what did Alfred mean?" "It's good that Barbara isn't here," I replied, "We're going on a more mission." "What kind of mission?" asked Dick. "We're going after Mario Falcone," I said grimly, "He's Carmine Falcone's elder son, and he's a big name now. It's likely that Scarecrow would go after him. He's been stepping up his game, and his brother Alberto is living a quiet life. And his sister Sofia is laying low. He's at the biggest risk. Come on, Alfred's going to be at the computers." "Why can't we do this with Barbara?" asked Dick, almost angry. "Because if they find a way to take us down, they'll be able to find her," I answered. Dick nodded eventually, following me.

We went inside the Batcave, suiting up. "Do you think Scarecrow will be there?" asked Robin as we got in the Batmobile. "Hard to say," I pondered, "Maybe. But I'm not sure if he ever kills anyone. If they need Mario to be scared out of his mind, definitely. But if they're just going to kill him, then…we'll see, I guess." We drove from the Batcave, heading towards Mario's home. It was an extravagant mansion with guards outside. We parked about a football field away, getting on a rooftop and using binoculars to surveil the area. I focused on the guards, observing, "With the number of guards here, I'd say that Scarecrow and his friends are going to have some trouble." A few minutes after I'd said this, one of the guards dropped onto the pavement, and a faint gunshot rang out. The other guards immediately became distracted and confused, drawing their guns and looking in the direction of the shot. Suddenly, a large cloud of smoke rose from the ground, murky forms rushing through it. More guards fell, and I heard more shots. I said, "We've got to get in there." Robin and I literally sprang into action, jumping up and travelling to the mansion. I ran into the smoke first, punching at barely visible faces. A bullet grazed the side of my suit. I felt my side. I wasn't bleeding, but it was a close shot. I heard a soft shuffling behind me, and I turned, striking someone. I heard a groan.

I got up close to my assailant, noticing what he was wearing. He was dressed in mostly plain clothes, except for a bulletproof vest and a mask split into two colors: red and black. My eyes widened, and Robin joined me, asking, "What's wrong?" "This is a disciple," I said, barely registering Robin's presence, "But he's not dressed like one normally would be. He must be working with Scarecrow." I stood, running into the midst of the other disciples. I noticed that two other men seemed to be ordering them around. They weren't disciples though. One was wearing a white ski mask, and the other had a black ski mask. Robin looked towards me, as if to say, "Should we get them?" I shook my head, firing my grappling hook into the side of Mario's house. I got onto his roof, followed by Robin. Three nerve-wracked guards were standing there, and when they noticed us, they fired their guns. Robin and I ducked out of the way. I tackled one of the guards while Robin swiftly knocked out the other two with his staff. "Where's your boss?" I growled savagely at the guard I'd tackled. He told me where Mario was holed up, and I went down the stairs on the roof into the upper floor, finding several disciples. I threw a batarang at one. It hit him squarely in the throat, making him choke. He clutched at his neck as I struck him across his face. He fell to the floor, still gagging from the batarang. "I need Robinrangs," remarked Robin. I rolled my eyes, and we went deeper into the house.

Eventually, we found the safe room that the guard had told us about. We pushed a hidden panel on the wall, and the wall opened to reveal Mario Falcone and two guards. I walked inside with Robin in tow, closing the door to the safe room. The two guards drew their guns, but Robin and I manipulated their wrists to make them drop their weapons. "Do you know who's after you, Mario?" I asked, turning to face the mobster. "The police, maybe?" said a nervous Mario. "Do you really think this is how the GCPD operates?" I challenged, "Are you sure it couldn't be anyone else?" "Maybe those guys who killed my cousin the other day," Mario thought out loud. "Johnny Viti," I said, nodding, "Do you know who 'those guys' are?" "Not a clue," Mario sighed. "Well, I do," I said, "And they're too dangerous for you to stay here. They'll find you, I guarantee it. You'd better go to the police." Mario was reluctant to leave. "Fine," I said eventually, "Then my friend and I will find our way out of here, and we'll leave you to be found." I turned, and Mario said, "W-wait. Fine, I'll go with you…to the police." He seemed defeated, hanging his head. "Good choice, Mario," I said, opening the door and walking out, "Don't try anything." I gestured for Robin to join me, and I said quietly, "Watch them closely." "Got it," nodded Robin. Mario and his guards walked slowly behind us as several more disciples blocked our way. "You're not getting to him," I said defiantly. The disciples chuckled. I charged towards them. Meanwhile, the disciple who'd been sniping on the rooftop contacted Joseph, saying, "Boss, Batman's here." "Well, then, is Crane there?" said Joseph. "Not yet…why?" the curious disciple asked. "Because I've always wondered what the Batman feared," Joseph answered. He hung up, and the disciple dialed Jonathan Crane's number.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX

I'd taken out the disciples in the hall, but I heard the clattering of more of them. "There's no way we can protect you with this many of them prowling around," I whispered to Mario. I looked around frantically, the steps of the disciples growing ever louder. Eventually, with no other discernable option, I pointed to a window, saying, "Out there. I'll tie a rope around my waist. You can climb down." "What if there's too many down there?" asked Mario. "At that point, you can only count on your bodyguards," I replied bluntly, "Like it or not, the only reason you're a concern of mine is because with you out of the way, things would get even worse. If there are too many, that's your problem. I can't help you further than this." Mario reluctantly agreed, and we got him out as quickly as possible. I started watching them go across the lawn, but I didn't have all the time I wanted to gawk. The disciples' footsteps were still getting louder. "This'll get messy," I sighed. Robin nodded his assent, saying, "I'm with you through it all, Bruce." "I know," I said grimly. Our eyes were fixed on the end of the hall. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and we heard low murmuring. I was confused, taking a sticky listening device and flicking it at the wall. It landed with an imperceptible _thump_ on the far wall. It turned green, and I heard, "…out of the way. Batman's mine. If you ruin my fun, I won't take it kindly." I recognized the voice. It was Jonathan Crane. _But it can't be_ , I thought, _This voice is far too…emotionless_. Robin turned towards me, seeing the confusion on my face.

He said worriedly, "What is it?" "The voice I'm hearing," I said quietly, "It's Jonathan Crane. He knows he can come here safely because it's a mob house. There'd be no cameras." I waited, listening more. I turned to Robin, saying, "I can't emphasize it enough this time. Stay back." Robin nodded, turning and running to hide himself. I turned to watch him go, and I suddenly heard the loud _clank_ of the metal tip of a cane strike the marble floor. I whirled around, seeing Jonathan Crane's slender visage in front of me, with an unnerving smile. This time, the smile was different from The Joker's and from White Knight's. He didn't smile like he'd just said a fantastic joke. He didn't smile like he was fantasizing tearing me apart. He smiled like a kid receiving a prodigiously sized package on Christmas; like he couldn't wait to find out what it was. "So you _are_ the Scarecrow," I said, gritting my teeth. "One and the same," responded Jonathan, "I was surprised you caught on so quickly. Most people are fooled…well, of course, you're not exactly most people, by all accounts." "Of course," I resounded. Jonathan didn't lunge forward to attack. He simply took two steps forward, the ominous clanking of his cane setting me further on edge. He absentmindedly straightened his tie, making eye contact with me. "I intrigue you," he suddenly said. "I'm sor…what?" I took a step back. Jonathan chuckled slightly, turning to the disciples and shrugging like I'd just asked him a stupid question.

He turned back towards me, taking another step forward. He continued, "You heard me clearly. I intrigue you, and I know it. I know it for sure. You see, you don't want to be interested by my very nature, but you can't help it. You can't help a lot of things, from what I hear. You especially can't help wanting to help others." Two-Face popped into my head, and I clenched my jaw. Jonathan raised his eyebrows, his smile melting to a smirk. He continued yet again, "I'm right. I can tell. You always see someone in need, no matter whether they're a criminal or a bystander. That's all. It's admirable, I suppose, but in the face of people like the mob I'm attacking, it's not of much advantage, I'm afraid." He waited for me to respond. "So…" I began. Jonathan raised his eyebrows further, leaning towards me in expectation. I finished, "Now that your long speech is over, what have you come for?" Jonathan's grin returned, and he ran towards me, swinging his cane down onto me. I blocked it with my forearm. I found myself gritting my teeth and supporting my blocking arm with my free one. For such a thin person, Jonathan Crane was strong. "You're surprised at my strength," he observed, "I always like to give people a little unexpected taste." He lifted his cane, striking me swiftly on the side. "Urrgh!" I groaned, stepping backwards. I tossed a batarang at his left knee. It hit its target, causing him to lose stability in his left leg. He fell to his knees, and I acted quickly. "You can dish it out, but can you TAKE IT?!" I growled the challenge, savagely punching Jonathan in the face. His head snapped to the side without so much as a grunt.

He turned to face me again. His grin was still there. He spit blood onto my shoe, his grin growing even wider. I was shocked at his demeanor, and it afforded Jonathan the chance to stand and step backwards. "I really do want to keep fighting," he said, "but I have a class to teach tomorrow. The daily grind, and all that, you know." He held up his cane, flicking open the top and spraying its contents at me. I was too late reacting. I inhaled the vapor. _THE GAS,_ I thought frantically. It had already started before I'd finished the thought. Blood and fur and skin and other grotesque bits of yet-unknown creatures issued from the walls as though they'd been changed into gaping wounds. They squished along the floor like worms from Hell, coming together in a disgusting heap in front of Jonathan, who'd suddenly become a skeleton-like Scarecrow; he looked like human bones had been brought together and scarcely wrapped in burlap, and his cane had changed to a scythe. The heap of organic matter split into two and began forming into separate monstrosities. I recognized things like leathery wings and painted nails on one, and a spade-shaped nose and a blood-stained tie on the other. Suddenly they became full, and their separate horrors were seen in full. They were as though my parents had been combined with giant bats, writhing and gurgling in their misshapen bodies. They spoke in a squelching manner, as if gore filled their mouths, saying in unison, "Wh-h-h-h-yyy? Bruce?" "No, no, I'm sorry," I whimpered, backing away from the products of my fear.

The Scarecrow cocked his head. I continued, "I'm sorry I disappointed you, but I couldn't do anything!" The Scarecrow said, "Daddy problems? Mommy problems? Or just parent problems in general? You're a different one than I expected." The creatures tried to inch towards me, but their broken limbs only allowed them to keel over and scratch their path to me. A trail of blood was left wherever they went. Suddenly, the Scarecrow took his scythe and severed both their heads. In the real world, Jonathan hadn't actually done anything. It was all part of the illusion. "No!" I protested loudly. I pointed to the Scarecrow, saying, "This is all your fault! You did this to them!" I looked down at them again. I threw up violently, screaming in pain. This was, too, a part of the fear gas' illusion. In reality, I was just screaming. Jonathan looked at me curiously. He pulled out a handgun, saying, "Sorry, but my boss wants you gone this time. Can't be helped. Otherwise, I would've enjoyed this more." I looked back up at the Scarecrow, seeing it raise its scythe and stalk towards me. Just as it raised its weapon over its head, I heard a young male voice yell, "Oh, no, you don't!" In reality, Robin tackled Jonathan and knocked the cane from his hand, punching him again and again until he was unconscious. With the strain on my mind from Jonathan's terrifying illusion, I'd been drained of my strength, and I fell unconscious as well. The last thing I saw was Robin running towards me.

I woke up in the Batmobile, with Robin heaving laborious breaths. He said, "Oh, finally, you're awake." I took off my mask, putting my head in my hands. "Where are we?" I asked. "Not far from Mario's mansion," answered Robin, sounding relieved, "Just far enough that we have at least a while until Scarecrow finds us." The vision Jonathan gave me formed in my head. "Don't…call him Scarecrow right now, okay?" Robin understood, saying, "Sorry. Until Crane finds us." "Better," I sighed, "Okay, so how'd you even get me out of there?" Robin responded, "Well, I tossed you out the window into a bush. You're heavy." I rubbed my back, saying, "Ugh. I guess I believe that story." "Yeah," said Robin, "I managed to drag you in here. We barely made it out." "What about Crane?" I asked. "Probably gone," Robin replied, "He might've woken up and run, or he might've been carried away by the disciples. Either way, I don't think we'll see him soon." "I don't know about that," I said, "He's bold. Really bold." Robin just stared at me. I sighed, "Let's get home." Robin and I switched seats, and we drove home silently. All my fears were there in Jonathan's illusion, full force. I was surprised that Barbara or Robin or Alfred were there, though. Maybe it meant that I had ceased being afraid for them. Was that good? Was it callous? I looked over at Robin. He'd taken off his mask, and he was trying to get some sleep. _Maybe it_ is _good,_ I thought. Robin had grown a lot by this time. He held his own in fights. He even had the strength to get me out of the mansion. We pulled into the Batcave, and I woke him up, saying, "We're here." Robin jolted, waking up and looking around. He got out with me, and we changed into plain clothes.

Alfred had waited for us at the computers, and he asked, "How did it go?" I quickly answered, "Fine. Falcone's probably safe with the police." Alfred pierced me with his eyes, saying, "And what about _you,_ Bruce?" "I'll be just fine, Alfred," I said, avoiding Alfred's gaze, "Don't worry about it." "You've said that quite a few times in your life, Bruce," said Alfred, crossing his arms, "It's never really been true." "All right, fine," I said, meeting his eyes, "I'm not okay. But I don't…I don't want to talk about it…right now. Give me time, please." Without even saying so much as "good night", I walked off to the manor. Dick suddenly got a call. He answered, saying, "I'm fine, Barb." She sighed in relief, "Thank goodness! I just _knew_ you guys would be on a mission! How's Bruce? Can I talk to him?" "He's…" Dick stopped. He couldn't lie. He went on, "He could be better. He needs time." "I understand that," Barbara said. Both her and Dick knew this full well. She added, "But neither of you are hurt, right?" "A little shaken up," answered Dick, "We each got our share of bruises. But that's just another day at the office for us." "I couldn't bear seeing either of you hurt," said Barbara, "You know that, right?" "Of course," said Dick, smiling, "Look, I'd better get to bed. Love you." "Love you too, Richard," replied Barbara. Dick hung up, looking towards Alfred and asking, "Do you think we should just give Bruce some space?" "Yes, that might be the greatest course of action," Alfred whispered, "But we still need him to know that we're here for him." "I know, it's just…I thought he already did," Dick said sadly, "Good night, Alfred." "Good night, Master Grayson," replied Alfred. Meanwhile, I laid in bed, not bothering to take a shower or brush my teeth. I looked to the framed photo of my family, turning it towards me. "I'm scared now, guys," I said quietly. They didn't respond. I turned away, my eyes growing misty.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: ALTHOUGH THIS WAS QUITE THE SAD CHAPTER, I WANT TO ACKNOWLEDGE THIS JOYOUS SEASON WE'VE FOUND OURSELVES IN YET AGAIN. WHETHER YOU CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS ALONGSIDE MYSELF, OR SOME OTHER OCCASION, I TRULY WISH THAT YOU HAD A HAPPY HOLIDAY. AND I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER, IF YOU EVER NEED SOMEONE TO PRAY FOR YOU OR JUST LISTEN, KURAUN'S HERE. MERRY CHRISTMAS.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER X

The following morning, I woke up, Jonathan's illusion fading from my memory. I didn't have any dreams as a result, so I figured I was okay. But now and then, flashes of the vision appeared in my mind's eye, and staying away from it was near impossible. I walked into the kitchen, where there was already a large stack of pancakes on a plate for me. I picked it up, grabbing the fork that was sitting next to it and going to the table. I started eating them when I noticed Dick sitting opposite from me. Dick asked, "Are they good?" "Yeah," I said quietly, "What's in them?" "Mint-chocolate chips," answered Dick, "Made them myself." "You did a good job," I acknowledged. "Thanks," said Dick, "So…are you doing okay?" I didn't want to answer, so I didn't. Dick sighed, "All right, fine," and left the table. I realized I'd forgotten my cane in my room. But the way I was feeling, having my legs collapse underneath me would be welcome. And besides, I thought I was in no position to ask anyone to get it. I thought. Dick walked up beside me, resting my cane on the table's edge. "Here you go," he said, "I noticed you forgot it." "Thanks," I murmured. "You're welcome," Dick said, walking away again. He went into his room, taking one last glance in my direction. He called Barbara. She answered, "Hey. What's going on? I don't have much time. I have to get to gymnastics soon, so hurry up." "Well…" Dick hesitated, laying back on his bed. He continued, "Bruce is doing worse than I thought." Barbara didn't respond. She knew how it felt to go through so much fear.

She asked, "Have you been able to talk to him about it?" "When he doesn't want to talk about something," answered Dick, "you'll have a bad time trying to figure out how to convince him to say something." Barbara responded, "I know how that feels. But he has to talk about it." "I'm not the one to ask him anything," Dick said, "In fact, I don't think Alfred could get through to him, and you know how close they are." Barbara said, "Well, just keep trying. I have to go. I love you." "You too, Barb," said Dick, hanging up. He walked out of his room, looking into the kitchen. He found my plate and fork in the dishwasher. My cane was gone from the table. Dick went up the stairs, finding the art gallery my family used to add to constantly. He went in, looking around. There was a portrait of my family hanging next to the door. He saw the painted version of my younger self, smiling widely. He could imagine me and my parents walking in here, my dad hanging up a brand-new painting. His eyes narrowed when he saw a painting directly opposite from where he was standing. He walked up to it. It was a modern expressionist painting. In the foreground, there was a robber standing over a person who was cowering on the ground. But greatly overshadowing the scene in the background was something similar to a black shadow, with large wings outspread and two glowing white eyes. By its side was a figure in black and red, with messy black hair. "This is…" Dick trailed off. It was obvious. He got up closer to the painting, staring at the abstract, ethereal versions of him and me.

I walked up next to him suddenly, my cane thumping on the floor. I said, "A local artist made this. She's a supporter of Batman, of course." "Wait a second," Dick said, "Her outfit…it looks familiar." "It is," I said, "Because she was saved by Batman and Robin not too long ago." "When'd you buy this?" an astonished Dick asked. "I came across her shop," I answered, "Paid her twice the asking price." "Why?" asked Dick, "I mean, someone's bound to get suspicious." "I just told her I thought it was cool," I answered, "And besides, it's somewhat of a reminder. This…" I pointed at the painting, "This is why Batman exists." I guess I seemed a bit more talkative, because Dick began asking, "Are you sure you don't want to talk about last night?" "Yes," I said, "I only came in here to let you know that Batman isn't gone. I'm not ready to talk. Not with you, at least." Dick was obviously hurt by those words, but he simply nodded, "All right." I walked out, leaving him in front of the painting. I went to my room, showering in my bathroom and putting on fresh clothes. I went out of the manor without crossing paths with Dick or Alfred. I hadn't even seen Alfred that morning. I went out to my Rolls-Royce, driving towards Lucius' house. When I pulled up to the front, I almost didn't want to go in. I walked up to the door eventually, ringing the doorbell. Lucius answered the door, saying, "Hey, Bruce! Come in, come in!" He saw my face, asking, "What's wrong?" "I'll tell you in a minute," I said, walking past him to enter the house. Lucius was already worried, as a matter of course.

He closed the door behind him, asking me, "Seriously, Bruce, what's happened?" "I'd rather talk about something else," I responded, "I don't want to focus on it." "Well, good luck with that," said Lucius, "Especially with me around. I'm not going to let you clam up forever." I said, "We'll see." "You know what, sit down," said Lucius, "On the couch. I'll join you in a minute." I did as he said, and soon, he sat down facing me with two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He poured us both a drink, saying, "Fine. You don't want to talk about it? It'll come out in time. But I have to warn you. Keeping something terrible inside yourself can start rotting your spirit. It's not protecting yourself, or your friends. It's only harming everyone. I know, because I shut up dealing with your parents' death. Your father was my best friend, and your mother was the one who picked us both up when we were down. I didn't know what I was going to do without them. So I didn't say a thing to anyone. But every day, it just kept feeling worse and worse, without lessening. And then I realized: someday I was going to have to help take care of you. And I couldn't do that wasting away like that. So Alfred and I met up a couple times a week. When I talked, it felt like I was…detoxing. I felt my happiness coming back. I couldn't have honored your father's memory without talking. You have to let it all go sometime." "I'll keep that in mind, Lucius," I said passively, refusing to meet Lucius' eyes. Lucius tipped his drink back, waiting for me to do the same.

Eventually, I drank, and Lucius asked, "So, how's Dick's training coming along?" "It's going pretty well, if I do say so myself," I answered, glad to be on a different subject. "What about Barbara?" Lucius asked further. "There's more of a conflicting schedules factor with her," I answered sadly, "It's going to be a while before she ends up on the frontline, unfortunately. She's got the heart for it." "And what about her therapy?" Lucius asked. "Going better than expected, actually," I said, nodding, "She'll be going a few times a month, depending on how she feels. She's had a couple appointments, and she's already starting to feel more secure. Of course, there's quite a ways to go, but knowing her, and with Dick by her side, she'll make it to the end." "I see something in those two," Lucius said, smirking. "I guarantee it's going to go somewhere," I responded, "That is, if the whole "crime-fighter" thing doesn't get in the way." "The way you keep bragging about them, they'll find a way around it," Lucius reassured me. "Yeah," I assented, "So, want to do anything?" "I want to talk about what you were hiding," Lucius answered seriously, "You know you can't avoid my questions. Not forever, anyway." "Jonathan Crane hit me with his fear gas," I said, sighing and becoming resigned, "That's all I'll tell you for now." "Jonathan Crane?" said Lucius, surprised, "You mean Scarecrow?" Crane's alias hit me hard, making me recall his grotesque, otherworldly version in the gas' vision. "Same guy," I said quickly. I looked even further away from Lucius.

Lucius sat back in his chair. The realization that Crane was in fact Scarecrow had dumbstruck him. He said, "Jonathan Crane. He works around all those college kids…why haven't you tried to get him?" "You think I'm just sitting down, Lucius?" I said indignantly, "I've tried, all right? But he's too smart. He's _far_ too smart." Lucius said, "I'm sorry I asked that question. I know he's smart." I sighed, "It's okay, Lucius. I'm just so…frustrated. I mean, I was stupid enough to go after one of his targets without a gas mask, just in case he showed up. I never even suspected how he administered the gas." Another flashback occurred. I groaned, shoving my palms in my eyes and leaning forward. Lucius knew he had to take my mind off of it. He asked, "How about we get you a gas mask?" Distracted from the memory of Crane's illusion, I answered, "Sure. That'd help." Lucius led the way, and once again we entered the R&D part of his house. We went to the part of the building that was devoted to military gear. We walked over to a small black device that looked like it would fit perfectly over the lower half of my face. "This baby is actually in use right now," said Lucius, beginning his exposition, "It's small, breathable, and relatively inexpensive. I could probably custom-make one to fit on your mask." "How long would that take?" I asked. "Considering the circumstances, I'll have it for you before the day is done," Lucius answered. "Thanks, Lucius," I said, "You're a great friend." "Thank you, Bruce," said Lucius, "So are you." "I've got to be going," I said, "I've got a formal lunch soon." "You sure you should go with the way you're feeling?" Lucius asked. "I'll be fine," I said, "I'll adapt." Lucius knew it was no use trying to convince me, so he sent me off.

When I got back to the manor, I heard faint grunting noises coming from the Batcave, followed closely by Alfred's unmistakable voice saying, "Come, come! You've got to execute your attack faster! You won't always be sparring." I walked into the Batcave, curious. I found Barbara on her back with Dick standing over her. Alfred was off to the side, his arms crossed and wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had a stern, focused expression on his face. "Welcome back, Master Bruce," he greeted me cheerily, "Since you were away, and Miss Gordon wanted to train, I thought I might teach her and Master Grayson a thing or two about how they do it in MI6." Dick picked up his girlfriend, patting her shoulder and saying, "Try again, pretty girl." Barbara stepped back, saying, "Count on it." This time, Barbara pinned Dick down, straddling his chest and putting her fist over his face. "That good enough for you?" she asked him. "It's good enough for me," said Alfred, "Unless he let you succeed." "Believe me, I don't want to let her," said Dick, "Just because we're in a relationship doesn't mean I'll give her any freebies." I smiled, saying, "Want me to take over?" "No, you have to get ready for you lunch, remember?" Alfred said, raising his eyebrow, "I won't let you be late for it." I nodded, going back to the manor and getting ready. After I'd already left and Dick and Barbara had finished sparring, they sat down at the computers, chugging their bottles of water. "You two did well today," said Alfred, smiling. "Thanks," they said simultaneously. "It's really cool that you're willing to help train us for Bruce's sake Mr. Pennyworth," Barbara said. "Oh, believe me, I've been doing things for his sake for quite some time," said Alfred, "Now, who's ready for lunch?" Barbara and Dick happily followed Alfred into the manor.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER XI

The lunch was, as expected, a very small distraction from my problems. All the people were boring, and the food was too weird-looking for me to approach willingly. I felt more constrained in my tuxedo than I did at any other boring social function. So I left a little early. I took off my tie immediately after getting into my car, going back to the manor. I didn't walk into the manor when I arrived, instead walking over to the Batcave. I changed into Batman, getting into the Batmobile and driving to Arkham Asylum. As I left, Dick, Barbara, and Alfred all noticed. Dick looked out the window as I drove down the road, wondering aloud, "Where could he be going?" "I don't know," Alfred answered, "But perhaps a long drive will help Master Wayne." Dick really wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't go anywhere without letting him know. At least, not most of the time. "Let it go for now, Richard," Barbara said, putting her hand on his shoulder. Dick sighed, "Okay, Barb. I'll let it go." "Hey," said Barbara, "Bruce can take of himself." "Or so he'd like us to believe," Dick scoffed. Barbara responded, "If he is faking, you'll be able to figure it out. And if you can't, Alfred will. Don't worry about Bruce." "All right, fine," said Dick. He took one last look out the window, and then turned and walked away. Barbara could tell he was worrying. It made her worry about Dick. He probably worried about her more than she did him, though. Especially after all that'd happened in the Underground. Dick was a guy with a lot of weight on his shoulders, and his friends hated seeing him like that.

I arrived at the Asylum, getting over the giant cement lined with barbed wire that separated the prison yard from the outside world. By this time I'd visited the Joker so many times that I knew when he would be out there. I spotted him immediately. He was lying on his back on the bleachers, reading a book. I walked over to him, asking, "Pleasure reading?" "Yes," he answered, "This is sudden. What do you need?" I didn't answer right away, and the Joker sat up, closing his book. He observed my silence with a perturbing interest. His smile lessened, becoming an intrigued smirk. "Let me guess…the Scarecrow?" I was glad I didn't have to say anything. Just the mention the Joker had made brought visions of the fear gas' effects back to me. The Joker leaned forward and continued, "Come on. I know you want to ask." I sighed, "How'd you know?" The Joker began speaking as though he was a dramatic TV show host, saying, "IIIIII'm glad you asked! You see, word travels fast in Gotham's resident cement cesspool! Once somebody starts flapping his gums, everyone knows! Speaking of which…" He returned to his regular tone of voice, screaming across the yard to Killer Croc, "HEY, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR MARR-IAGE!" Killer Croc was obviously grateful for the Joker's statement, but also slightly confused. The Joker looked down at me, continuing, "Did you know he's actually human? It's really cool. Now, where was I…? Oh yes." He returned to his host voice, saying, "Anyway, it was only a matter of time before word of the Scarecrow's rampage across Gotham made its way to my ears!" He hopped down and stood next to Joe Coyne, going on, "Can you tell us something about that, Mr. Penny Plunderer?" Coyne stuttered, "I-I…I'm sorry, what…?" The Joker didn't let him finish, rolling his eyes and returning to his regular voice, saying, "You're useless." He grabbed Coyne by the head and shoved him away. I was ready for the whole act to end. I had serious things to say, after all.

The Joker turned back to me, saying, "Anyway, what's eating you? You're not looking as cheery as before." "I look cheery?" I asked. "Well…comparatively," the Joker said. I sighed, saying, "Fine, yes. It's the Scare…Jonathan Crane." "Jonathan Crane, eh?" the Joker nodded, "Knew there was something off about that guy." "You already figured it out, didn't you?" I asked. "Oh, yeah," the Joker answered with a laugh, "He relies a lot more on reputation to protect himself. A lot more than you do, anyway. He's still pretty effective when it comes to covering his tracks, but…you know me." "Figures," I muttered. I talked louder, "Look, he hit me with his fear gas. I need some advice." "You either ignored all the good advice or everyone you trust is dead," responded the Joker, "Because I don't know if you noticed, but..." He tugged at his prison jumpsuit, finishing, "I'm not the best guy to go to for counsel regarding life decisions. Unless they're bad. In which case, I could write a really good book…about bad decisions." I stared at the Joker. He said, "Okay, so they're not dead. And you _did_ ignore them. Bad decision, Bruce. And as I made clear…I know what I'm talking about." "Well, no, I didn't," I said, "I just…don't see how their advice will help me in the long run. They all told me to just rest, or talk about it with someone else. I mean, how's that supposed to help my fight against Crane? It's not like I could talk to _him_ about it." The Joker was deep in thought for a few minutes. He clenched his jaw occasionally, his smile changing every so often.

He finally looked me in the eye, asking, "Want to know what my worst fears are?" I answered, "Not sure." "I'll tell you anyway," the Joker said, "It'll be for your own good." He sat back down on the bleachers, saying, "The first is definitely losing Harley. That's a bit of a given, I guess. It'd be like losing Janice all over again. And then…I'm afraid of any unfamiliar smells. Especially when I can't quite figure out where they're coming from. It makes me wonder if maybe someone's coming after me again with another mind-altering gas. And if that's the case, what would happen? Would the gas make me act lower than a beast? Would I stop loving Harley? Would I just die? Now, most of the time, it's just something coming from another cell, or a guard's lunch. But that doesn't make it any less scarier when it happens again." "So what do you suggest?" I asked him. The Joker replied, "Embrace the fear. Once you let it through, you just have to look it in the face." "Why haven't you done that?" I asked. "Because everyone's different," the Joker said, "I'll probably take a long time to get over it. Why, I can't say. But you…you're different. I think you can do it. You just need to confront a few things." "What things?" I said. "Only you know," the Joker shrugged. I understood. I knew I was afraid of disappointing my parents, and maybe I was even scared of Crane. I still think the bats were just coincidental. And then again, maybe I was scared of other people taking things from me, especially those I love. Or maybe I was just scared by them leaving any way.

I didn't really think that I'd have a big issue with Barbara and Dick going off to college, or getting married and moving somewhere else. But the more I thought about it, the more it worried me. And then there was Alfred. Whether I liked it or not, he wasn't going to be with me forever. There's a part of me that still hates it. I can't believe how much I really was scared of losing them, period. I knew what I had to do. "Thanks," I said. "You would've figured it out on your own," said the Joker, "But you're welcome." I nodded, walking off and getting back over the wall. The Joker looked to another corner of the yard, getting up and yelling, "HEY, COYNE!" I got in the Batmobile, taking off my mask and speeding home. I pulled into the Batcave, getting out and changing into plain clothes. I walked inside to find Dick and Alfred reading books on the couch and in a large chair respectively. Alfred asked, "Do you mind my asking what it was you needed to do, Master Wayne?" "No, you're justified in asking," I said, "Sorry I left without any explanation." Dick said, "It's okay." I looked at the floor for a few seconds. I looked back up, saying, "Can I have a word, Alfred?" "Of course, Master Wayne," Alfred said, shutting his book and standing up. I walked into an old parlor with Alfred following closely. I let Alfred walk in past me, and shut the door. Alfred sat, and I did the same, sighing.

Alfred asked, "What is it, Bruce?" I explained my conversation with the Joker, finishing, "…I think a lot of it has to do with losing you and Barbara and Dick." "Surely there's more," Alfred said. I hesitated. I didn't want to open up like this. I needed to, but I felt like it would kill me. I mustered up the courage, saying, "I'm still afraid of letting down Mom and Dad. I did it when I was on Halcyon, and now…what if I die? What if I get Barbara and Dick killed? Mom and Dad would really be disappointed then." Alfred didn't look directly at me, but instead seemed to be examining my shoes. However, he eventually looked up at me and said, "I understand your fear, but you must let go of it. I'll be gone in twenty years or less, and barring any unforeseen incident involving your night job, you'll still be quite alive at that time, still defending people. My time on this earth will have been good, I think. My only dying wish would be that you and Dick and Barbara would be there to witness my passing. Living as a butler teaches a man many things, but mostly to be humble with pride. I am proud of my work, and proud of the man you've become, and I expect to be very proud of Dick and Barbara. And on the other hand, I'm still very conscious that my place is to assist you every day of your life. When my time comes, I'll know I've lived a rather pleasurable life, and that I've done my duty towards all three of you. All in all, I don't think that once I'm gone that the Bat Family will be missing someone. Rather, I think it will grow closer. You don't need to fear losing me." I looked at Alfred for a long time. I couldn't help thinking about all the scraped knees he's bandaged up. I couldn't help thinking about all the times he's slept in an uncomfortable chair because I'd had to go to the hospital. I thought about when I was a kid who didn't like big parties, and just had a great time with Alfred. I thought about his playful, father-like teasing when I mentioned a girl I'd talked to at school. And then, I couldn't help thinking of when Alfred thought for a name for a superhero and came up with "Batman".

Then I became suddenly more aware of his wrinkles and his statement of how long he had for this world. Someday, the man who regularly groomed his greying mustache, the man who absentmindedly straightened things out on the coffee table, the man who played video games with a depressed teenager even when he didn't understand them, the man who'd been a second father to that same teenager, the man who now took on the role for another young man, the man who sat across from me, would be gone. "I know, Alfred," I said slowly, "But still…when you're gone…I'll feel…" I stopped, turning away and swallowing the painful lump in my throat. "When you're gone…" I sighed heavily, "I'll feel just…just a little bit more alone." I sobbed, leaning forward and cradling my face in my hands. Amidst heaving groans, I said, "I'll feel more alone. Even with Dick and Barbara, I'll feel alone." I felt Alfred's careful hand on my shoulder, and heard his soft voice say, trembling, "You needn't feel that way." I looked up at his face. He'd been shedding tears as well. He repeated, "You needn't feel that way."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER XII

After a longer talk, Alfred walked out of the room, and I felt just a little better. We had called Barbara a little bit beforehand, so when Dick walked into the room, she was there too. I asked them, "Has Alfred explained everything to you?" They both nodded in unison. "So you know what I'm really afraid of," I said. They nodded again. They unconsciously began holding hands. "I know you want to get married someday, or something," I continued, "I'm fine with that. What really bothers me is that you can't stay with me here when that happens. You'll have to have your own place. And then I feel like I can't protect you." "Who says you can't?" Barbara said, "If we're in trouble, I know you'll be the first one to swoop in and help us." "I know, but what if I'm too late? Like if you're in a car accident." Dick firmly said, "Then you'll have to help yourself first. If something like that happens to us, it won't do us any good for you to let yourself go. Don't go out of your mind about something you couldn't stop. And as for us moving away, I don't think we could stand going too far away." Looking at the two teenagers I'd considered family for a while, I could already see them driving away with "JUST MARRIED" plastered on the back on the car. I smiled a little. "Embrace the fear," the Joker had said. "Where do you think you'd move?" I asked curiously. "Not sure," Dick mused, "Maybe somewhere that needs the kind of help we can offer. Maybe someplace like…Blüdhaven." My eyes widened slightly. Blüdhaven is notorious for being more dangerous than even Gotham. "Hey, now, that's a bit hasty," Barbara said, laughing softly. "All right, whatever you say," Dick responded. We all laughed for a little bit, my stress dissipating a little.

At the end of our conversation, I said, "I'm sorry to get to the end so quickly, but…I've got somewhere to be." Barbara said, "Go on ahead. We know you have some things to work out." I stood, waving goodbye to them and walking out. I drove to the cemetery, walking past gravestones that had become more like familiar faces. I eventually reached the spot where my parents laid side by side forevermore. I had brought flowers like always, laying them carefully on the ground. "I guess some people would think losing your parents would somehow…feel like you're suddenly free from their expectations," I said slowly, "But that's not true. I know that for sure, after twenty long years. At least if you were here, I'd know your expectations, and I'd live…I'd _try_ to live up to them. I guess you both know how it is. The kid is always deathly afraid of seeing that they've earned the label of 'failure' in his parents' eyes. It makes him trip over himself running at full tilt. And then of course it's worse for the only child, because he's the only way his parents can live vicariously, if they want." My little one-sided conversation got me walking down memory lane again. My parents always skipped work when I wanted to show them something that five-year-old me thought was infinitely important. I told my dad straight to his face at the age of eight that I didn't want to be like him. "I'm glad," he had said, "I think people who are just like their parents are boring." I got more confident, telling him I wanted to be an astronaut. "That's a pretty tough job, son," he said, "You sure you'll commit." "Totally sure!" I said excitedly, "I want to go to space. I'll train!" "Then I guess you'll be an astronaut," my dad said, grinning, "As long as you don't mind your mom and me tagging along." "Nah, you'd probably just embarrass me," I said. "I'll just make a disguise," my dad said, "I'll find some way." He grinned even wider, and I couldn't help but laugh.

And then there was my mother. Martha Arkham Wayne was a firm yet loving woman who didn't take anything from anyone, especially when it came to her little Bruce. One of the few ways to make her very angry was to threaten me. When I was in second grade, I was mocked for my quiet nature around other kids and my oddly sophisticated fashion choices. I was probably the only kid I've ever met who wore a tie willingly. The other kids assumed I thought I was "too fancy" for them or something. One day my mother came to school to pick me up, and she discovered that my eyes were red. She immediately intensified her motherly gaze and swept the front of the school. She scrutinized a group of kids who had been the most responsible for my torture. Once she figured it out, she asked, "Are those kids making you feel this way?" "Mom, it's okay," I said quietly. "It is _not_ okay," she said, walking over to the kids. I still don't know what she said to them, but whatever it was, they shut up and hung their heads. She walked back over to me, taking my hand and leading me to the car. "Once this semester is finished…" She trailed off. "What, Mom?" I asked. "How would you like it if _I_ taught you?" she asked. I smiled. I asked, "You really would, Mom?" "Yes," she answered, "I'm going to homeschool you." And that was it. When my mother was set on a decision, there was no changing her mind. From the end of that semester on, I was homeschooled by my mother (with some occasional help from Alfred and my dad). My mother was a woman possessing an extreme aptitude, and I probably ended up learning even more than I would have in the public school system.

Those precious memories made me think even more. I realized my parents were never disappointed me. If they were alive today, I think they might've discouraged the idea of Batman at first, of course. That's just the right of parents. But once they knew how committed I was to helping Gotham in a different way, they'd be proud. My parents had never been disappointed in me. Sure I'd fallen down, but they helped me right back up and showed me how to keep my footing. I didn't need to be so afraid about letting them down. I was a hero to some people. Why wasn't that enough in the first place? "Thanks," I murmured, walking away. As I passed all the gravestones, the thought of preventing more of them from being laid in the ground came to me. Batman was protecting people. I couldn't count how many times I'd allowed someone to go home another night. And even if it was just one last night, I was satisfied. I couldn't say I got over my fear completely. _But it's a start_ , I thought. When I got back home, I was emotionally spent. I went into my room and stared at the photo of my family. "See you later," I said. I peacefully dropped off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Jonathan was pleasantly surprised that he hadn't seen me. "It's only been two days," said Jim Corrigan. "Yes, but two days where I haven't seen him _at all_ ," Jonathan responded, "There's no crying woman thanking him on the news. There's no bashing articles in the paper. There are even some criminals out there already feeling more relaxed. I mean, this is unheard of." "So?" Jim said, "It just means your gas works." "Maybe so," Jonathan said, "Or maybe he's biding his time. I don't know what he saw. I don't know how long the effect would…well, affect him. If he's gotten over it already, while it seems unlikely, he's too smart to remain completely inactive. I have to learn more about him." "How do you plan on doing that?" Jim asked. "Talking to those who know him, of course," Jonathan answered, "Which means I have to get access to Arkham prisoners. But unfortunately I don't have any good excuses as to why I want to talk to any of them. We'll have to use more…covert resources." "You got someone on the inside?" asked Jim. "Not me," Jonathan answered, "My boss. He's got quite a few, actually. They'll help without a moment's notice, I guarantee it." "They're a third party," Jim observed suspiciously, "Are you absolutely sure they can be trusted, like…those 'disciple' shmucks over there?" "Almost none of them are 'shmucks'," Jonathan said irritably, "But yes. I'm entirely sure. My boss finds trustworthy men. I mean, take a look at me." "Last thing I want to do today," Jim grumbled. "Just…load up your gun," Jonathan said, "We may need it." "So who're we grabbing?" Jim asked. "You probably wouldn't go if I told you," Jonathan answered, "So I guess you'll just have to find out." Jim pulled on his ski mask, sneering.

They piled into a large van, speeding towards Arkham. When they reached their destination, distractions were already put in place. Several of Joseph's inside men, posing as guards and even inmates, had pulled fire alarms, started fights, unlocked a few cells, and many other odd things. Jim and the disciples in the van got out, but much to Jim's dismay, Jonathan hadn't moved. He sat expressionless, one leg crossed over the other, his cane resting next to him, staring straight ahead. "What's your problem, Scarecrow?" Jim challenged, "Afraid your gas won't be enough to protect you?" "I'm not throwing you under the bus," Jonathan said, "You just don't need my help for this one. The disciples already know who they're looking for, and I'll be here when you have him. Just follow along and keep your gun at the ready." Jim wanted to swear at Jonathan, perhaps insult his mother. But after a while working with him, he knew it would be for naught. So he sighed and followed the disciples into Arkham. From where Jonathan was sitting, it sounded akin to a warzone. Gunshots and yells rang from the stone walls of the Asylum, raising and lowering in volume every so often. Jonathan absentmindedly looked at his watch, sighing. "Tsk, tsk," he said, "Not being very efficient, friends." Jonathan's impatience didn't last long, however, as the disciples, Jim, and a hooded man burst outside. They rushed to the van and sped away, everyone who'd gone in breathing laboriously.

Jonathan remained calm, and somewhat surprisingly, so did the hooded man. He didn't struggle. He didn't try to ask questions. He was literally sitting there, twiddling his thumbs with his hands resting on his crossed legs. A disciple said, "Sorry we only got the one. Bane didn't go." "You didn't kill him, did you?" asked Jonathan, "That'd be rather unprofessional." "No, he's alive," Jim answered, "But he's probably going to have to deal with some tough questions soon. Anyway, who's the guy we got? I didn't see you nab him." "That's an answer I think we'll want to give you later, seeing how agitated you are," Jonathan smirked. Jim looked towards the man, who was now resting his chin on his hands. Jim asked, "What's wrong with this guy? A bunch of armed guys grab him out of his cell, throw a hood over his head, and then rush him to a van, and all he does is…this?" "There's a lot wrong with him," Jonathan answered coolly, "Trust me." Jim didn't really want to trust Jonathan, but he complied and stayed quiet. Eventually, they reached their destination. It was one of the many safe-houses in Joseph's possession. More accurately, it was a safe-apartment-building. They pulled up in front, grabbing the hooded man and running inside. They seated the hooded man in a chair, making sure his feet were bound. They took off the hood. "Hi," Jonathan smiled. The Joker looked up at them and said, "I'm sorry, but my birthday isn't for six months, and I don't really like surprises." "I'm going to need a drink," Jim sighed, walking off. The Joker laughed quietly.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER XIII

Jim had returned to the room shortly following his statement, drinking a bottle of Miller Lite at a pace that seemed almost frantic. "What is it, friend?" the Joker said, "Aren't you happy to see me?" Jim stopped only to say, "I'd literally rather chug bleach than hear you speak." "Then what're you still doing here?" the Joker asked, "Grab the Clorox and start imbibing." Jim stared at the Joker. The Joker said, "Don't use the term 'literally' unless you're willing to commit." Jim rolled his eyes and began drinking again. "Hey, is it my fault I paid attention in English class?" the Joker said indignantly, "Oh, wait, I guess it is." He turned his attention to Jonathan continuing, "So, what do you want me here for?" He began whispering, "I certainly hope it's not a tea party. I'm horrendously underdressed." Jonathan answered, "Not to worry. What you're wearing isn't that big of a concern. And besides, if I were to host a tea party, do you really think I'd do it in a grime-hovel like…this?" The Joker looked around, nodding, "Fair point, fair point. But seriously folks…what do you want with little ol' me?" "It's not so much _you_ as it is the information you are in possession of," Jonathan answered, "You see, it's my understanding…not to mention my boss's understanding…that you know a few things about our dark friend." "Ah, ah," the Joker corrected, "Frenemy. Make no mistake. It's a love-hate relationship. Though more with the hate, I'm rather sorry to admit." Jonathan smirked. The smirk became a full-blown grin, and then it all boiled over into a low, long chuckle. The Joker joined in. So did the others standing around, though more awkwardly, as they were only laughing in fear of Jonathan.

Jonathan sighed happily, saying, "You're a laugh. This being the case…I'm sincerely apologizing for your treatment." "Compared to Arkham, this has been a spa trip," the Joker offered, "There's no need to apologize." "Cute," Jonathan smiled again, "You thought I was referring to your extraction. Not quite, good sir. As it happens, I'm speaking about events to come." He went to another room, returning with a cart adorned with several syringes, small blades, and other handheld torture devices. "Frankly, I didn't take the time to memorize all the names of these chemicals," Jonathan said, "But boy, are they nasty. And when the pain they cause is paired with having your nails separated from your fingers, well…it's one big pitcher of sugar honey ice tea." He picked up a syringe, flicking the barrel. "Why not just use your fear gas on me?" the Joker asked, genuinely confused. "That'd reduce you to a blubbering mess," Jonathan answered, "And at that point I've just wasted time getting you here." "Great," the Joker nodded, "All right, fine. Let's get intimate." Jonathan said, "Agreed," and proceeded to jab the needle into the Joker's neck. "Give it a second," Jonathan whispered. The Joker suddenly tensed up, groaning in a restrained manner. He clenched his jaw and clamped his hands onto his thighs. A few seconds later, he relaxed just as suddenly, breathing heavily. "Wow," he said shakily, "You really ought to remember the names. This one's a knockout." "Right on target, I'm afraid," Jonathan said, "That was just a small dose. You'd pass out from the pain if I upped it enough." "I like it," the Joker grinned. "I'm glad," Jonathan replied.

The Joker abruptly asked, "So what got you into this? You know, the business of…villainy." "I've always had an affinity, really," Jonathan answered, "Never really had any consideration for the feelings of others, and frankly, I've never grown out of the hating girls stage." "Mommy issues," the Joker said, "I can see that. So, what else? You feel all warm under the bridge when you see someone hurt?" "No, I consider that a baser characteristic, typical of one below my caliber," Jonathan said with utter disdain while walking back towards the cart, "In fact, killing's a bore for me. I'd much rather deal with other humans…differently." "How so?" the Joker asked, intrigued. "Well…" Jonathan began, approaching the Joker with another syringe, "Hold on a second." He injected the chemical into the Joker's neck. Just before the effects took over, the Joker groaned, "No, you're good. I'm listening." "You ever read Shakespeare?" Jonathan asked. The Joker recovered a few seconds later, saying, "On most rainy days." "What about Othello?" Jonathan asked further, "It's my favorite." "A couple times," the Joker answered, "That movie, O, ruined it for me." "I feel the same way," Jonathan said. Jim rolled his eyes again. Jonathan continued, "But you know, the reason I _really_ love Othello is because of Iago. Brilliant guy." "Can't argue with that," the Joker agreed. "Indeed," Jonathan said, enthused, "The way he tosses around his victims…oh, it's a work of art, I tell you." "You do remember that he gets tortured after the story ends, right?" the Joker said. "Yeah," Jonathan responded, "I never said he succeeded in the end. But…I'm different. I have more resources at my disposal, and no emotional attachments to boot. At least, not real ones." The Joker nodded approvingly.

Jim spoke up, "Hey, we all know you two want to get together and be happy, or whatever, but I hope you haven't forgotten that the clown's here for a reason. Torture him for important stuff, will you?" "I've just come to a conclusion about you, pale skinny man," the Joker said, "You are no fun whatsoever." "It's not my objective to be fun," Jim retorted, "And it's Jim." "The sad fact is that Jim's right," Jonathan sighed, "I'm going to have to really get down to business. But first…let's get in the mood." He began playing The Human Abstract's version of Moonlight Sonata. He approached the Joker, holding yet another needle and a pin. He injected the chemical into the Joker's neck, jabbing the pin underneath his fingernail at the same time. The Joker couldn't even yell in pain. Jonathan said, "Feels like you're helpless, right? So you might as well spill. It'll make it go quicker." After the Joker was finally able to relax, he said, "It's going to take more than that. I'm a tough egg to crack, I assure you." Jonathan pushed the pin in a little farther. The Joker seethed, "Don't you get it? As far as I'm concerned, this is just a feather tickling. There's too much at stake for me to squeal so soon." Jonathan sighed, "You know, I really didn't want to hear you say that. It means we'll have to go through some more…barbaric means." "I'm up for it," the Joker said firmly. Jonathan nodded, "I'm convinced." The two locked eyes, each knowing what was going to happen next.

A few minutes later, I was contacted by Jim Gordon. "Hey, Jim," I answered my phone. "Batman, you're not going to like this," Jim said. Once he told me, I hung up and hurried to Barbara and Dick. "Guys, suit up," I said quickly. I walked off without another word. Though they were confused, they followed as closely as they could, going to the Batcave with me. I was already getting in the Batmobile when they finished getting ready. As they got in, Barbara asked, "What's going on? Where are we going?" "Arkham," I answered grimly, "The Joker's been taken. Your dad's already there, Barbara. Figure out some way to change how you sound." "How about the way I look?" Barbara said, "If we swing by my house real quick, I think I have a solution." I complied with her request, letting her go through her bedroom window. She came out a few seconds later, with a blonde wig in hand. As she got back in the Batmobile, she was already putting it on. "What's that from?" I asked as we sped away. "A school play a few years back," Barbara answered, "Never got rid of it." "All right, make sure it looks convincing," Robin cautioned, "And try not to get nervous." Barbara nodded, finagling with the wig every so often. When we pulled up in front of the asylum, Jim was standing out front. He greeted me with a handshake, and then he noticed Barbara. "You look familiar," Jim observed, squinting. "What?" Barbara said awkwardly, "Nah, you've never met me. That's right, you don't know me. I'm Batgirl. I mean, see? I have blond hair." "What does that matter?" Jim said, furrowing his brow. "She's new," I interrupted, saving Barbara, "Just ignore her." Barbara smiled awkwardly. Robin patted her on the shoulder, nodding reassuringly.

Barbara still seemed to perplex Jim, but he sighed and let it go, turning and saying, "Follow me. There's someone you'll want to talk to." "So, what went down, Da…Commissioner?" Barbara asked somewhat nervously. I glared at her. She mouthed, "I'm curious, okay? I'm sorry." Jim answered, "The Joker was taken directly from his cell. We're unsure who did it, but a guard said they looked a little like the guys Bane worked with a while back." I sighed. I knew they were disciples. "Is Bane who I want to talk to?" I asked as we entered the asylum. "As much as it pains me, I'm afraid so," a voice said. I turned to look. Bane was standing between two guards, chained hand and foot. "Hey, Bane," I said, "How're the inmates treating you?" "With less respect than I deserve, thank you very much," Bane answered bitterly. "I'm glad," I said maliciously. "I see you're up on your feet," Bane said, "I'm surprised, I must admit." "I have good friends," I responded. Bane's eyes went towards Barbara. "Who's this?" he asked, "Another child in your little mission?" "I'm no child," Barbara said defensively. "Of course," a derisive Bane said. Barbara looked at the floor. Bane continued, "Yes, I'm the one you need to talk to." "You wouldn't talk to me at all unless it was something really important," I said. "You're ever so observant," Bane mocked, "Yes. It's of grave importance. As it stands, it would seem you are one of the few people I can trust with such information." "Let's go somewhere more comfortable, then," I said. "Agreed," Bane eyed the guards suspiciously.

Back in the apartment building, the Joker's nose was broken, his left eye was swollen shut, and blood had soaked into his clothes. "You know, it really is funny," he wheezed, "When I forget one pain, another pops right back up." "That's the nature of this sort of practice," Jonathan said, wiping the blood off his hands. His suit had also been stained. He continued, "You really are a tough egg to crack. I thought I'd be able to break through that happy little barrier of yours. Turns out I was wrong. I think I'll take a respite." He walked off, finishing, "Jim, stay with him, would you? And don't kill him." Jim was about to protest, but the Joker blindsided him by saying suddenly, "Spectre." "Hey, man, I don't like being called that," Jim said, clenching his jaw. "I'm aware," the Joker said, "But still…it's interesting." Becoming agitated, Jim growled, "I could use these tools, you know. Scarecrow never said anything about hurting you." "I think it'd be kind of redundant at this point, you know?" the Joker said, "What's the point? I'll just keep yammering. It _is_ my natural state of being, after all." Jim knew he was right, sighing and leaning back against the far wall. "I know guys like 'Scarecrow', as you so lovingly address him," the Joker said, "They don't care. Certainly not about you." "Best opportunity I have right now," Jim shot back. The Joker mused, "You know, Spectre would be a good superhero name." Jim made eye contact with the Joker. They stayed silent.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: TURNS OUT I _CAN_ POST ANOTHER ONE BEFORE LEAVING.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV

Bane stared at me with the ice-cold eyes I'd gotten used to when I opposed him. He managed to never break the stare as he sat down opposite from me, Barbara, and Robin. We were in a solitary cell, where no one could hear us, and we made sure no one could see us. "So, what makes all of this so 'grave'?" I asked right off the bat. "I'm sure you've already guessed exactly who plucked the Joker from his cell," Bane said. "Scarecrow, right?" Barbara piped up eagerly. Bane seemed taken aback that this strange blonde was the one to speak first. He glanced at me for a second, as if to say, "Seriously?" He sighed, looking at Barbara and said, "Yes, indeed. Scarecrow is undoubtedly your man. And of course, Joseph's disciples are involved. You've got quite a bit to take care of, Batman. I'm sure you also know why they took him." "He has information about me," I sighed, "Yeah, I know why." Barbara said, "Wait. I've heard a lot about the Joker. I don't think interrogating him would go over well." Bane gave me the same look as earlier and then responded to Barbara, "You think you know the Scarecrow, little girl. I assure you that you don't. I merely heard whisperings about him, and it was enough to send chills down my spine. If anyone can get information from even men like the Joker, it's him." "What kind of 'whisperings'?" I asked. In response, Bane asked, "Do you remember Gregorian Falstaff?" I nodded, "Yeah, he was one of Thomas Wayne's biggest business rivals. I remember hearing about how he was ousted as one of the Kings of the Underground." "Kings of what?" Robin asked. "You've never heard of them?" Bane asked, incredulous, "Even I've heard of them." Robin shrugged, "Hey, buddy, I've only been here for a little while." Bane sighed.

He looked up at me once more, saying, "You explain." I said, "Back before I was born, the Underground was even worse than it is now. It was every man for himself no matter where you went. Guys like Falstaff were at the top of the food chain, along with Alfred Stryker and Carmine Falcone. They started referring to themselves as Kings of the Underground. And they fit the profile, too. They made alliances with each other, almost like they were joining kingdoms. Although, most of the time they were just trying to kill each other. And everyone else got in the crossfire. Then, the year I was born, Thomas Wayne started a campaign to help the Underground. It was one of those 'realizing you have to be a role model' things. He fed a lot of funds into the Gotham police department, and a bunch of undercover cops got close enough to the Kings to split them all up. They went their own directions after that. Falstaff was one that did a better job of hiding his past." "Not good enough," Bane shook his head, "The Scarecrow found him. Falstaff was notorious for his steadfast nature, but it didn't stop the Scarecrow from…assimilating Falstaff's operations into his own. Falstaff's body was found a couple weeks after he'd gone missing. He showed signs of starvation and severe dehydration, and it was found that small pieces of his internal organs had been cut out while he was alive. They found no evidence on him, but it was obvious who did it." "So, what would Scarecrow want with you?" I asked. "I still have men here in Gotham, albeit no longer under my command," Bane answered, "He might've wanted to take over whatever resources they have left." I nodded.

"Where was Falstaff's body found?" I asked. "An alley behind a bar in the Underground called The Drowning Pool," Bane answered. "All right," I said, turning to Robin and Barbara, "Let's start there. Every criminal, no matter how careful, leaves some kind of trail." We walked out, instructing the guard to get Bane back to his cell and heading for the Batmobile. As we drove across the border to the Underground, Barbara took a long, shaky breath. "You okay, Barbara?" I asked her gently. "I'll…I'll be fine," Barbara answered, "I just…you know, I didn't want…to be here all that much." "We'll be okay," I assured her, "We're not going to let anyone hurt you, no matter what." "Thanks," Barbara smiled slightly. On our way to The Drowning Pool, we passed a very familiar building. Barbara's smile twitched as she said, "That was where Andy lived. I loved visiting them." I sighed softly, knowing there was some part of me that blamed myself for Andy's death. I shook my head, sighing once more and pulling up to Loser's. "Why are we here?" Robin asked. "We happen to know someone here," I answered. Robin perked up and Barbara grinned as they realized who I was talking about. As we entered Loser's, several of the patrons raised their glasses to us. I walked right up to Hannah with Barbara and Robin in tow. Hannah said excitedly, "Hey, Br…buddy! What brings you here? And…" She looked at Barbara and finished, "Who's this?" She looked at Robin and added, "She your girlfriend?" Barbara answered, "I'm Batgirl. And yes." "Oh, I was…just kidding, but okay!" Hannah said happily, "How about something on the house for the happy couple?" "Sure, thanks," Robin nodded. "You still have to pay, mister," Hannah pointed straight at me.

I chuckled, "I'm all right for now, Hannah." I suddenly noticed that she was wearing a sling on her right arm. "What happened?" I asked, concerned. Hannah looked down at it as if it'd suddenly materialized on her arm, answering, "Oh, this? Pervert in an alley. Thankfully…" She held up a small Taser and finished, "I keep this on hand at all times. He'll find it difficult to work over a girl again." "How's church?" I asked. "Pretty good," Hannah answered, "The owner here just became a deacon." I nodded. "It's not that big of a thing, Hannah," an aged, rugged voice said, "I'm still a long way from being any kind of wise man, after all." The owner walked out from the back. He was a tall man, about sixty, with calloused hands and kind eyes. He had a few tattoos on his arms, which was the only part of his appearance that didn't make you think "grandfather". Other than that, you could imagine him reading you a storybook. He smiled widely, saying, "Batman! What a pleasure. I see Hannah here is already taking care of you." "That she is," I responded, "She's a good friend." "More than one reason why I hired her," the owner said, ruffling Hannah's hair, "Like I say, everyone needs a second chance. And a third chance." He chuckled to himself, saying, "Well, Hannah, I'm going to make a few more calls, see if I can book a good speaker this week." "Sounds good, boss," Hannah said, "Hey, when you're going on that run today, can you pick up some more Hansen's?" "You got it," the owner said. He turned to us before leaving, saying, "You guys have a good time." I nodded, saying, "We will. Don't worry." "Oh, I don't," the owner grinned.

"I like him," I said, "Seems like a good boss." "He's a great boss," Hannah said, handing Robin and Barbara their drinks, "He trained me really well." "Although, I'm not so sure about him having you work with your arm hurt," Robin said. "Ah, like I said, he trained me _really_ well," Hannah responded, "Serving with one arm is a breeze at this point. Anyway, you guys are in your costumes, so, what do you need? Info?" I nodded assent, saying, "Yeah, info. Specifically, we need to know about the death of Gregorian Falstaff." Hannah thought for a second, saying, "I've…heard about it…but…" The owner interjected, "I doubt she could tell you much about that. She's not familiar with the Kings." "Yeah," Hannah said, "I was probably too busy looking for my next "client", if you know what I mean." The owner said, "I can tell you all about Falstaff. My name's Michael, by the way. You can call me Mike." "Sounds good, Mike," I said, "Let's go to The Drowning Pool." Mike turned to Hannah and said, "You going to be all right while I'm gone?" "You know me, Mike," Hannah answered him. "That means yes," Mike said with a smile. We walked outside, where Mike mounted a Harley Davidson. He put on his helmet, firing up the motorcycle and shouting over the engine, "Just follow me!" He roared ahead of us, and we quickly hopped in the Batmobile, speeding to The Drowning Pool.

We pulled up to the front, getting out and walking to the alley. Mike stood next to a spot where blood still stained the brick walls. "This is the exact spot where Falstaff was found," he told us. I looked around. Other than the blood, you wouldn't have been able to tell that a crime was ever committed. I looked up and to my right. I smirked. "Good," I said, seeing the security camera, "Maybe the CCTV tapes from that day were sent to the division of GCPD here." "Maybe," Mike said, "This is the Underground. Be careful who you talk to. In fact, I'll go with you. I know my way around which of the cops here are less than friendly." "Agreed," I said as we walked to the curb. We drove off momentarily, heading to the police building. When we walked inside, we noticed everything was _very_ different from the building in the main city. Despite the funds I'd been pouring into the Underground, the building still had some bare walls and beat up equipment. The guns and ammo were all brand-new, but that was about it. "So, who're we looking at talking to?" I asked Mike. Mike looked around the room, scrutinizing each officer and occasionally shaking his head. He pointed to one officer, "Maybe that guy." "Officer Beltrand?" Barbara said, making a face, "No, that guy's drunker than…than…" Robin finished for her, "John Blutarsky?" Barbara nodded, saying, "Yeah…whoever that is." Robin was taken aback, asking me, "Do you own Animal House?" I nodded. Robin turned to Barbara, saying, "You. Me. Animal House. ASAP." Barbara blinked twice in slight confusion.

Mike said, "And how do you know about this officer Beltrand, young lady?" He furrowed his brow. "Um…" Barbara struggled for an answer. She eventually said, "Research. I do lots and lots of research, all the time." Mike didn't look like he believed her, but he accepted her answer and turned back around. He eventually snapped his fingers, saying, "Her. She's the one we need to talk to. Her name's Sarah Nettles." "Nettles?" Robin mumbled, "That's not a good sign." I glared at him for a second, and he said, "Sorry." She walked right up to us when she noticed Mike, and she turned and announced, "It's not about any cops in here, don't worry!" The other officers rolled their eyes. "So, what's up with you, Mike?" Sarah asked. "Well, we're looking for the CCTV tape of Gregorian Falstaff's death," Mike answered, "And how'd you know we weren't here for a cop?" "You wouldn't be here with Batman if you were," Sarah answered immediately, "And yeah, we've got that tape in the evidence room." A few minutes later, we were watching the tape, seeing Falstaff stumble around the alley, looking around frantically, as if someone was watching him. "Witnesses said he was babbling about evil children, or something," Sarah said. "Fear gas," I said, "This is how merciless Scarecrow is." The sentence hung over the room like smoke as the video showed Falstaff finally collapsing, motionless.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER XV

I squinted, looking at a spot on Falstaff's arm. "Wait a minute," I hissed, pointing at him, "Look at that." Sarah asked, "What?" "I see it," Barbara said, leaning forward, "It looks like a gunshot wound to me." Mike affirmed, "Yeah, that's definitely a gunshot wound. Looks like a .40, probably a Glock 19." Robin looked impressed, saying, "You know your stuff, Mike." "Yeah, well…" Mike sighed, "I've had to take more bullets out of Hannah and myself than I'd care to admit." Sarah had been silent for a little bit, staring into the distance. "What is it, Sarah?" Mike asked, "I know that look too well." Sarah seemed uncomfortable and a little ashamed, saying, "I, uh…when we found Falstaff like that, we _did_ find a Glock 19 near him, but…we couldn't trace it to the owner. At least, that's what was claimed." "What are you saying, Sarah?" I asked gravely. "I'm saying…" Sarah said, sounding defeated, "I think somebody kept us from finding the owner. I mean, it didn't seem fishy at first, but now that we know the Scarecrow's behind it…" "Well, do you have the ballistics report on the bullet?" I asked. Sarah answered, "That's another thing. It was supposedly lost." "Lost?" Barbara said indignantly, "Either someone needs to have their badge taken away for negligence, or someone's made it look lost." "Then what do we do?" Robin asked. "We poke around," I said, "and then we see what comes bolting out of the brush. Come on." I turned and walked out of the station, with Barbara and Robin following close behind. "Thanks for the help, Mike," I said on my way out. "No problem, Batman," Mike nodded.

We drove straight to the Batcave, Barbara rushing over to the computers. "All right, let's see here," she said with a laser focus. She mumbled constantly as she clacked away on the keyboard, getting through the barriers put up on the GPD's database. "How'd you get all this info on the database?" I asked. "My dad, of course," Barbara answered, "I thought you'd been paying attention, Bruce." Robin turned and looked at me, as if to say, "She's great, isn't she?" I rolled my eyes but didn't say anymore, fearing a break in Barbara's concentration. In a few minutes, she pumped her fist in the air and said, "Found it!" "Found what?" I asked, walking to the computers. Barbara presented a layout of names and photo IDs, all for various police officers. "This is a list my dad keeps adding to," she said, "It has all these officers he thinks are corrupt or unreliable." "So _that's_ how you knew about Beltrand," Robin nodded, impressed. "Yeah," Barbara said, "And what's more, with this list, we might be able to figure out who purged that ballistics report." "Great work, Batgirl," I said proudly. "Couldn't agree more," Robin said, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Thanks, guys," Barbara said proudly, cracking her knuckles, "But, uh…you should see me at my peak. It's pretty amazing, if I do say so myself." I laughed softly, saying, "All right, let's do some work." All three of us sat down at the computers, starting to sift through the numerous names on the list.

Eventually, it got so late that Barbara had to convince her dad to let her stay over at a friend's house and _then_ bribe that friend to back her up later to cover up where she really was. "You're pretty sneaky for a police officer's daughter," I observed. "You learn," Barbara said nonchalantly. I leaned backwards, finding that Dick was sleeping face-down on the computer desk he was occupying. Barbara slammed her open hand down on the desk next to his ear, and suddenly, Dick jumped awake, screaming, "WE'RE MOVING A LITTLE FAST!" I laughed, "What's going on in dreamland, Dick?" Dick quickly shook off his sleepiness, looking at the both of us and stammering, "I, uh…it's…er…" He suddenly locked eyes with Barbara and gulped. Barbara's eyes widened, and her face flushed. "I'll just get back to work," she squeaked, turning back to the computers. I kept laughing harder and harder, finding it difficult to restrain myself. "Oh, come on, man!" Dick said, "Don't tell you've never had dreams like that!" "Let's talk about this later, please," Barbara whispered, sinking lower into her chair. "I'm sorry, Barbara," I tried through my laughing fits. Dick groaned, letting his head drop onto the desk.

Another half hour passed. I had gotten us all coffee inside the manor, and as I re-entered the Batcave, I found Dick with his hand supporting his head and Barbara staring at the screen, open-mouthed and groaning. "Here you go, guys," I said, setting their coffee in front of them. Barbara mumbled, "Thanks," and Dick simply started gulping it down. As I sat down, Barbara sighed, "Crime-fighting is _hard_." "You get used to it," I responded. Barbara turned and looked at me, looking more tired than I'd ever seen her. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she just sighed again, turning back to her computer screen. Suddenly, Dick perked up and said, "I think I found something!" "Oh, it's a miracle," Barbara breathed happily. She rushed over to Dick, kissing him full on the lips. She didn't stop for a few seconds, and I felt the need to say, "Um…Barbara, he needs to show us what he's found." Barbara pulled back, and Dick was in a daze. "Guh…" he said, turning to his screen, "This guy's name is Jim Corrigan. He's gotten into trouble before, but nothing's been able to stick. And what separates him from the rest is that he was at the Underground station when Falstaff was killed." "Where does he live?" I asked, "He's probably sleeping now." "Um…" Robin clicked around for a few seconds, eventually finding Corrigan's address and places he frequented. "Hm," Dick said, "Maybe Barb and I can head to this bar, here. He goes there a lot. You can handle him if he's home, right?" "It'd be more efficient," I said, "But…I…" I looked at the both of them. "Just…stay in contact," I finished. I had every reason to be worried, but I had to let them be heroes by themselves. I decided it was time that I stopped shadowing them all the time.

Robin got on his motorcycle with Barbara on the back, while I took the Batwings. As I went one direction and they went another, Barbara said, "You know, I think I need some kind of vehicle. Something purple, definitely." "We'll figure something out, Barbara," I said. "Okay, but let's not procrastinate," Barbara responded, "This is important." I smiled, saying, "You got it. Hey, I'm almost to Corrigan's house. How're you guys?" "We're just outside the bar," Robin answered, "You want us to hold up?" "No, go in," I said, "Just do it carefully. If he makes you, it'll ugly very quickly." "Got it," Robin said. I arrived at Corrigan's a minute later, landing in his front lawn and collapsing the Batwings. I picked the front door's lock, walking inside. The house was dark and quiet. I searched all over, soon discovering Corrigan's bedroom. Fortunately, he was still asleep. "Guys," I whispered, "I got him. Head back to the Batcave. I'll meet you there." "Sure thing, Bruce," Robin said, "And by the way…thanks for letting us handle ourselves. It means a lot." "I know it does," I responded, "You're welcome." I stood over Corrigan, saying to myself, "All right, then. Let's get this started." Corrigan snored as though nothing would wake him.

However, he soon found himself upside-down, hanging from a tree in his own backyard. I yanked his hair to wake him up. He swore loudly and tried to move, the result being awkward, restrained wriggling. I covered his mouth, whispering, "Stay quiet. We don't want to wake up the neighbors, do we?" Corrigan's eyes widened momentarily before he relaxed. I took my hand off his mouth. He whispered furiously, "And why _shouldn't_ I shout? I know your methods. Even if I did draw attention to this, you wouldn't take me out. You don't have anything on me." "Yeah, well…" I trailed off, nodding. I continued, "Sure, I won't kill you. You're right about my 'methods'. But see here…I'm very resourceful, you understand. I can figure out some way to make you bite off your own tongue. You go to the hospital with a wound like that, you've got no way of telling your boss you didn't fess up, even if you didn't. He won't believe you. And then he'll see you as a liability. That's the last thing you want, Jim, and I know it. So unless you want me – and eventually your boss – to get creative, I suggest you say something and go quietly to jail." All I could do then was hope my theatrics paid off. To this day, I don't actually know how to make a guy bite off his own tongue, anyway. _Come on, come on,_ I thought to myself. Corrigan seemed to be thinking hard, weighing his options.

I decided to make a gamble, walking right up to him and tugging his mouth open, saying, "Let's get this over with, then." Corrigan madly shook his head, saying, "All right, all right! Fine!" I stepped back, asking, "What did you do with the gun used to shoot Gregorian Falstaff before he was killed?" "I destroyed it and replaced it at the scene with an untraceable gun," Corrigan said, "It took a lot of money exchanging a lot of hands." "Where can I find the guy who owned the gun?" I asked. "Why don't you want to know where Scarecrow is?" Corrigan asked, confused. "Scarecrow is too many steps ahead for me to catch him that easy," I answered, "I think there's something bigger going on, and it has to do with that gun." "The guy's name is Harry Farrall," Corrigan said, "He's this chronically homeless guy living in the Underground." "Why didn't you kill him?" I asked. "Scarecrow isn't big on publicity," Corrigan answered, "Even if it _is_ someone like Farrall dying. Besides, he didn't know anything." "Where can I find him?" Corrigan shakily gave me his location, and I turned away, leaving him in the tree. "Hey, wait!" he yelled after me, "Aren't you going to get me down?" "I told you I was resourceful," I responded, "I bet you can be, too. Figure it out!" I left Corrigan cursing and writhing in the tree.

As I headed back to the Batcave, I told Barbara and Robin, "Hey, the guy we're looking for is one Harry Farrall. I've got his location." "All right, we'll see you back here," Robin said over the communicator. When I got back to the Batcave, Barbara and Robin were already waiting beside the Batmobile. "What took you so long?" Robin joked. "Long story," I said, "Let's head out." They both got inside the Batmobile, and we zoomed out of the Batcave on our way to the Underground. As we approached that more desolate side of Gotham, a thunderstorm began to form above us. When we crossed over from the main part of the city to the Underground, it had already begun to rain. Robin and Barbara were unusually quiet. "Hey," I said, "You guys doing all right? This isn't normal for you to be so silent." "It's just…" Robin was obviously thinking of how to put together his words, eventually saying, "Thanks. Thanks for…everything. Thanks for training us, and especially thanks for letting us handle something by ourselves." "We're in this together, Dick," I said. I added, "All of us," while looking back at Barbara. "I have to thank _you_ for that," I finished, smiling.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER XVI

We eventually came across the small homeless community where Farrall resided, parking right in the middle. We got out, looking back and forth for him. I asked a passing resident, "Where's Harry Farrall?" The guy turned and pointed behind him, towards a sleeping man on the far side of the community. I nodded my thanks, telling Robin and Barbara, "Let's go," and walking towards Farrall. Barbara was incredibly jumpy, frequently checking her surroundings and occasionally squeaking when someone got too close. Robin placed his arm around her shoulder, saying quietly, "It's okay, Barb, just breathe. You'll be fine. You'll be fine." Barbara started taking long, shaky breaths. I turned and began walking backwards, saying, "Just keep your eyes on us, Barbara. We'll keep you safe." Barbara laughed quietly, "I just thought I would've gotten at least a _little_ stronger." "You don't have to get better right away," I said, "Not for us." "Thanks, guys," Barbara said. "Look, if it's too much for you, you and Robin can head back to the Batmobile," I said. "No, it's fine," Barbara insisted, "I'll be able to handle it." "If you say so," I said, turning around as we reached Farrall. He was curled up on a large, collapsed cardboard box with a blanket over him, snoring like nothing else and coughing every so often.

I shook him forcefully, saying, "Hey, Farrall! Wake up." He groaned, "Who's…" He looked up at me, his eyes widening, and he quickly stood up, holding his hands out in front of him and saying, "Hey, wait, man, I didn't do anything. You must be looking for someone else." "I have it on good authority that we're not," I said, my face stone cold. "Okay, okay," Farrall said calmly, "Just let me…" He turned and tried to sprint away from us. Robin quickly outstretched his arm, firing his grappling hook and hitting the inside of Farrall's knee, collapsing his leg and making him face-plant twenty feet away from us. Robin pumped his fist and whispered, "Always wanted to do that." I walked over to Farrall, who was groaning and holding his nose. I grabbed him by his jacket collar and lifted him to a standing position. He protested, "Come on, man! You broke my nose!" "Actually, my friend broke it," I replied, "And if you don't want it to get worse, I suggest you talk to us." "All right, fine," Farrall seethed, "I'll tell you what you need to know." "Good," I said, releasing him, "When did you last use the gun you sold?" "What?" Farrall asked, his eyes widening, "How'd you know about that?" "'Cause he's Batman, friend," Robin said. "We need an answer," I said seriously. Farrall sighed, "I'll tell you. I was…wandering around the city, drunk off of everything. The details are so fuzzy…but…I remember this guy. He was wearing a real expensive suit. I was so hammered, all I remember thinking was, 'What's a guy like this doing here?'." "What happened then?" I asked frantically when Farrall paused. "Give me a second," Farrall muttered. I stood by and watched him nervously, knowing this could be a break.

Farrall continued, "This guy, he, uh…he walked up to me…yeah, that's what happened…he walked up to me, and then…he said something. What did he say? Oh, yeah, he said, 'Get away from me!', or something along those lines. Then he charged me when I didn't back off. I just figured he was crazy, and I had to protect myself. I took out my gun. I fired once. I just wanted to scare him off, you know. But I think I might've hit him. He starting yelling, and then he just ran off." I realized Falstaff must've been in the early stages of the fear gas' effects, seeing as how he saw Farrall as whatever he was so afraid of. "Where exactly were you?" I asked. "I, uh, I was in an emptier part of town," Farrall answered, "I like it around there. It's quieter." I knew Scarecrow wouldn't choose an obvious base like an abandoned building, so I had to think hard. Then it hit me. "How many bars are in that area?" I asked. "Um…just the one I went to," Farrall said, "Like I said, it was an emptier part of town." "Perfect," I whispered. I asked Farrall the name of the bar. When he gave it to me, I turned and walked off, saying to Barbara and Robin, "I've got it, guys. Let's head out." As we left, Farrall said, "Hey, wait! My nose is still broken here! I need some kind of payback!" "Say that again, and I'll tell my friend to take out your other leg," I said to him without turning around. Farrall turned away, grumbling. We all got into the Batmobile and drove towards the bar.

On our drive there, Barbara asked, "Why'd you need the location of the bar? I thought we were concerned about the gun." "I thought so, too," I answered, "But think about it. You set up shop in a bar. Once you take in a prisoner, you interrogate him and drug him, and then you release him. With everyone else drunk, focusing on something else, what does your drugged, raving prisoner look like?" "He looks like…" Barbara thought out loud. She snapped her fingers and said, "He looks like another smashed guy drinking the night away." "Exactly," I responded, "If he stumbles out the front door babbling about evil children, you're just going to think that he's had _way_ too much and he's seeing things because he's got the drink in him. You'll never think that he's been gassed with a hallucinogenic drug by a powerful criminal in the back room. Not until it's too late, anyway." "Wouldn't the owner notice there's something off?" Robin asked. "You're on the right track, Dick," I answered, "I think the owner's done more than just noticed. I think he allowed it." "So…" Barbara's eyes widened. "Yeah," I confirmed her suspicions, "This is one big lead." We drove until we arrived at an alley close by the bar, getting out and heading on top of the nearest roof. We stood on the edge overlooking the bar. "You ready to do this?" I asked Barbara. "As I'll ever be," she answered, breathing deeply.

"All right then," I said, "Let's do it." I held up a grenade launcher I'd taken from the Batmobile. "What's that for, again?" Barbara asked, eying it nervously. "This time of night, the bar's probably packed," I answered, "If there really are criminal ties in it, we don't want to charge in there without clearing it. _That's_ what this is for." I aimed at a window, firing a smoke grenade into the bar. A minute later, a distinct clamor rose from inside, and people began pouring out. "Where's that photo of the owner?" I asked. Robin brought it up on the display mounted into his glove, showing it to me. "Where are you?" I thought out loud, scanning the crowd rushing out of the bar. Soon enough, I spotted him, right in the middle of the crowd. "Got him," I said, turning and firing my grappling hook in the roof. I rappelled my way down the face of the building, followed quickly by Barbara and Robin. As I dropped to the ground, the owner was a mere five feet from me. As he stumbled towards me, I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and growled, "Not so fast, guy." His eyes were tearing up rapidly, and he was coughing profusely, trying to say, "Wha…what do you want…who're you?!" "I'm…Batman," I answered slowly. Behind me, Barbara slowly pumped her fist, closed her eyes, and whispered, "Yes." Robin snickered in response, and the bar owner asked, "What's…their problem?" I rolled my eyes, answering him, "I don't think I'll ever find out." As the last of the crowd drew away, I dragged the owner into the bar, where the smoke grenade was still fuming. I grabbed it and tossed it out the window, leading the bar owner further into the back.

In the back room, amid dozens upon dozens of cases of various drinks, the break table was nearly collapsed as I slammed the owner down on top of it. "What do you know about Jonathan Crane?" I asked forcefully. "I don't know anything!" the owner insisted, still coughing almost nonstop, "I've…never heard that name!" "Don't play innocent!" I shouted, "I know he brought Gregorian Falstaff here and exposed him to his fear gas! I know he staggered out of here to his death on your watch!" The owner, desperate and knowing he couldn't keep it up in his condition, wheezed, "You can't…prove anything. You think it'll be so easy to take this down? The police here barely care, and the people…they're even worse. You know that." "I _do_ know that, but I'm persistent," I replied menacingly, "Are you sure I wouldn't be able to take this down? I've gone through a lot, and I'm not stopping for someone like you. But in any case…" I turned to Robin and Barbara, continuing, "This isn't the place. Not exactly. It's too close to the bar itself. Someone would've noticed, no matter how drunk they might've been. Look for something, anything, while I restrain our friend here." Robin threw up horns and said, "We're going to find a secret passage. Today is a good day." He and Barbara searched throughout the room, carelessly overturning cases of drinks. Noticing the owner's facial expression of protest, Robin quipped, "Hey, buddy, we're not old enough to drink anyway." They continued rummaging through the stock until Barbara said, "Hey! Check this out, guys." I finished tying up the owner, walking over to Barbara and asking, "What do you got?" "Look!" Barbara said excitedly. It looked like a large stack of beer cases.

"What am I…?" I began. I noticed something off, though. Though the cases were all real and had been recently replaced, the wall they stood in front of looked slightly out of place. "How do you think it opens?" I asked Barbara. "I…hadn't figured that part out yet," she answered. "Let's hurry up, then!" Robin said, rushing over and fiddling with the wall of cases. About thirty seconds in, we finally discovered a bottle that, when removed, caused the entire section of the wall to hiss and move, revealing a dark room beyond. Lights flickered on, showing a small room lined with weapons and instruments of torture, with a chair equipped with straps sitting in the middle. "Huh," I said, "This is a new one." I looked all around the doorway to the room, observing, "Doesn't seem to have any security system other than how we get in." I stepped through the doorway into the room, continuing, "This is definitely where they brought Falstaff. It must be some kind of outpost for Crane." "Or maybe it was created by Joseph himself," Robin suggested. "If that's the case, we've come across something much bigger," I said. I turned around and around inside the room, realizing that what we'd found there could be far more significant than I had previously thought.

Meanwhile, in the apartment building where Jonathan was still staying, he was sitting in front of the Joker, who was missing a few teeth and whose left eye was swollen shut. "I think it's so interesting how you can't express pain," Jonathan smiled, "It just always looks like you're in ecstasy." "Call me a masochist," the Joker responded weakly. Suddenly, Jonathan's phone started ringing. "Is it the local radio station?" the Joker asked, "Have I finally won that Disney cruise?" Jonathan looked at the contact name, sighing, "No such luck, I'm afraid." He answered, "Somnus. What's going on?" Somnus answered, "There's been a breach in the Underground." Jonathan smiled again, saying, "Finally," and leaving the Joker alone.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER XVII

Robin and Barbara gingerly entered the room. Robin asked, "What all is in here?" As Barbara looked around, she responded, "Torture devices, a chair, chains, walkie talkies…what's that?" She had looked over at me. I was breaking the lock on a file cabinet up against the wall next to the entrance. "We're about to find out," I answered Barbara, managing to open the cabinet. Inside was some rat poison, dust, and a few thumb drives. "Looks like they cleared out of here in a hurry," I observed, "Maybe around the time when White Knight went rogue. They just took whatever looked valuable and left." "That would explain these," Robin said, gesturing to spots on the walls where various weapons used to hang. "You're not going to find anything!" the bar owner shouted from the other room. I walked to the doorway, staring at him and asking calmly, "Willing to bet on that?" The owner lost his tough demeanor, swallowing and looking at the floor. I stepped away from the doorframe, beginning to say to Barbara and Robin, "Let's get these thumb…" Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming from the front of the bar. I mean a lot of them. "Quick!" I hissed, grabbing a random thumb drive and rushing out of the room. With Robin and Barbara in tow, I closed the room and looked to the breaker box. I killed the lights with a batarang, retreating to a corner in the now-darkened space. Barbara and Robin did the same. Barbara's chest was heaving as she took deep, shaky breaths. "Just stay calm," I assured her quietly, "It'll be fine." She nodded and quieted her breathing.

I heard a voice I recognized as Cerberus say, "Come out, Batman. You can't hide forever." I didn't respond, hearing the footsteps of the disciples grow closer. "Not feeling like talking, eh?" Cerberus continued, "Well, that's just a crying shame." I saw the beam of a flashlight pierce the darkness in the back room, searching relentlessly. Before it ended up on Barbara or Robin, however, the beam found its way to the bar owner, who was still awake. "Now, why didn't you say anything?" Cerberus asked him, lowering his gun and approaching him. The owner didn't answer. "You were afraid of punishment, weren't you?" Cerberus continued, "Didn't want to make Joseph mad because you failed." "But…" the owner tried. "But nothing," Cerberus interrupted, unsheathing his knife and jamming it into the owner's neck. He made a few sickening bubbling sounds before he drifted away, blood still spurting from his neck. Cerberus commanded, "Somebody clean this up when we're done! Make it look like a botched robbery. Kill some crackhead, dump him here, put a knife in his hand, and put a gun in this one's." Barbara sighed and sobbed slightly, not able to take her eyes off the grisly scene. Cerberus turned and shined his flashlight at her. She gasped and began trembling. "You must be the new kid," Cerberus said, approaching her menacingly. Barbara shrank back as much as she could.

He stopped and looked into her eyes, saying, "Now, those are the eyes of someone who's seen some things they shouldn't have. I would know. I see them every day. Let me assure you, missy, that whatever you've seen, if you don't tell me where your friends are, I'm going to hand you over to the Scarecrow. He'll start with them and then move on to you. And it'll be a thousand times worse." Barbara glanced over at me as more disciples began entering the room. "No!" she growled. She took two bastons from the thigh holsters we'd put onto her suit, savagely attacking Cerberus' joints. He roared in pain as Barbara whaled on him, driven by the anger she got from hearing her friends threatened. Another disciple stepped forward, preparing to kill Barbara with his gun. I was there to prevent it, lunging from my hiding space and grabbing his hand. I whacked it upwards as he fired, sending a bullet into the ceiling. He found his face meeting my knee, his mask cracking. As he dropped off, I looked to the other corner of the room to see Robin's right foot hurtling into another disciple's crotch. The disciple shouted as Robin horse kicked him in the chest, making him fall into a stack of beer cases. Robin looked towards me, shrugging and saying, "Hey, it's a good default, and I stand by it." I rolled my eyes, noticing three more disciples filing in. Fortunately, the opening to the back room created a bottleneck situation that made the disciples easier to handle.

"Been waiting to try this one," I whispered, producing an experimental batarang from my belt. I threw it at the wall next to the newcomers, shouting, "Close your eyes!" Cerberus had gotten up and had his hand clenched around Barbara's throat, and as he heard me, he turned and growled, "What?!" With the press of a button on my gauntlet, the batarang unleashed a blinding flash and an ear-piercing tone which our masks protected against. Fortunately for us, the disciples' masks didn't. All of them, including Cerberus, howled in pain and panic, trying to take aim with their guns. "Quickly!" I said loudly, "Before they fire! Take them down!" Robin and I knocked out the three reds that had entered while Barbara tried to get Cerberus. Cerberus, resisting her attacks for a few seconds, radioed in to his allies, "It's time. Get him in here." I repressed the button as Cerberus finally toppled over, causing the batarang to deactivate. "They all backed off," I said, noticing that there weren't any more disciples coming in. "Why would they do that?" Barbara asked, "They could've tired us out, right?" "Wait a minute," Robin said, his eyes widening, "Did Cerberus say anything before he checked out?" "Something about…bringing someone in, I-I think," Barbara answered slowly. "Oh, no," I whispered, grabbing Robin and Barbara and holding them up against me, "Guys, put on your breathers." They took their breathers off of their belts, locking them onto their masks. They were a recent development for our suits that didn't see much use because they hindered communication. "What about you, Bruce?" I could barely hear Barbara say, the breather muffling her voice. "I'll…I'll make it," I said, unsure of who I was convincing. I looked over to Robin. He had a look of steel in his eyes. "Make it, Bruce," he said calmly. "Be okay, please," Barbara pleaded quietly, hugging me tightly. Robin joined in, and as we stood huddled in the middle of the room, the door slammed shut and something jammed up against it. There was no turning back now.

We heard dull thuds coming from the other room, culminating in a hole being punched in the wall by the metal tip of a cane. It was removed, and the top was brought through. A demonically familiar _hiss_ issued from the top, releasing what we all knew too well. I had chosen to leave my breather off because I had to prove to myself that I could overcome my fears. I had to let Scarecrow know that I was the one _he_ should fear. I saw the gas creep towards us, and as I inhaled it, I felt the hallucinations coming on. I looked down at Barbara and Robin. They weren't there. Or at least, I couldn't see them. Despite my knowing that it was a trick, I began to panic. My breathing became erratic and the stench of stagnant blood filled my nostrils. My eyes began brimming with tears, every fiber of my being unwilling to relive the nightmare. "Not this, not this, not this," I repeated frantically. I looked around the room, blood seeping from every corner of the room and from the eyes of the unconscious disciples. The hallucinations tapped into another great fear I held when I realized that it wasn't the walls seeping blood. They were blood spatters, come from the bodies of the disciples, who now appeared to have severe blunt-force wounds all over their bodies. I raised my own hands in front of my face, finding them drenched in human blood. "This isn't me," I whispered, terrified, "This isn't me. I don't do this. I don't do this!" I shut my eyes, trying to block out the fear any way I could. Without warning, I felt my left gauntlet slip off and something warm touch my hand.

I looked down, seeing Robin's left hand clasping mine and Barbara holding my wrist. Barbara's eyes were red and flowing with tears. She whimpered, "We're here, Bruce. Don't leave us behind." The illusion dissolved slowly, Robin and Barbara's eyes meeting mine and giving me the assurance that they were there for me. I knew that we were truly a family. The room returned to normal, Cerberus and the other disciples unconscious but alive. Looking around the room, I noticed that the gas had dissipated. "It's okay now," I sighed, "You can take off your breathers." I felt immense relief wash over me as they removed their breathers, taking deep breaths without having to worry about Jonathan's fear gas. "I'm glad you're okay," Barbara said, smiling encouragingly. "We both are," Robin added. "I'm glad too," I responded, "Today is the day the Scarecrow finds out where his power stops. Today is the day he finds out he can't control us with our fear." "How do you want to do it?" Robin asked. "Do what?" I asked in response. "Come on, man, you know," Robin answered, "When they come busting in here, that whole 'today is the day' thing isn't going to work if you don't give it some style. You want to let him know who's boss. So I'll ask again: how do you want to do it?" I rolled around the possibilities in my head, eventually saying, "Let's go with a simple route. He won't expect it, at least." "I like it," Robin replied. Just then, we heard a scraping noise come from outside.

Jonathan burst into the room half a minute later, grumbling, "If you're going to block a door, try not to do so good a job next time." He straightened his suit jacket, scanning the pitch black room. "You can't scare me, Batman," he taunted, "Hiding in a corner, like you do with everyone else, won't work. It won't make me shake from head to toe. It won't make me scream like a child. In fact, if previous experience is any kind of reliable, you should be like that right now." His foot kicked something solid. He squinted in the darkness, seeing a vaguely human form. He took out a small flashlight, shining it onto Cerberus, who was still unconscious and who we'd put into a goofy sitting position. On his face was a sticky note that read, "BOO!" Jonathan removed the sticky note, saying, "Good effort. But I'm not sure what you were expect…" "I was expecting you to get distracted," I interrupted from behind him. Jonathan whirled around, preparing to strike me with his cane. I caught it, looking him in his eyes and asking, "Sure you're not scared?" I threw my fist into his throat, making him stumble backwards and trip over Cerberus. I stood over him, noticing his taken-off-guard expression. "You may be the Scarecrow, but I'm the Dark Knight," I growled, "You've got nothing on me." Robin and Barbara stepped into view, Robin carrying another disciple over his shoulders. "This isn't over, you know," Jonathan sneered. "Wouldn't count on it," Barbara smiled sweetly.

I used another smoke grenade in the main room of the bar, allowing us to walk out with our prisoner unopposed. We deposited him in the trunk and drove off. On our way home, Barbara said, "We're awesome." Robin and I simply grinned and nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER XVIII

When we parked in the Batcave, Barbara was the first to exit the Batmobile. "I have to get going," she explained, "There's only so long I can be away from home without my dad getting suspicious." She ran to the manor and took a shower, changed, and dried her hair, running back with the Batgirl suit and saying, "I'll see you guys later. Bye!" She hung up her suit and kissed Robin on the cheek, rushing to the car she'd taken to get to the manor, driving off. She left us to drag the disciple from the trunk of the Batmobile. We tied him to a chair, waiting for him to wake up. While we waited, Robin suddenly said, "You know, we tie up more guys than we used to. Do we want to make a habit out of it?" I nodded slowly, without an audible response. "Well, I guess while we're here…" Robin sighed, walking over to the computers. He pulled open one of the drawers, rummaging through it and muttering incoherently. Eventually, he said triumphantly, "Ha! Here we go! Haven't had these in a long time." He walked back over to me with a box of Whoppers. "Can't go wrong," Robin added, opening the box. He pulled down the part of his mask covering his mouth, tossing a couple Whoppers into his mouth. He pointed the box towards me, shaking it and saying, "You know you want some." I dropped the stoic act and reached inside the box, pulling out several of the malt balls. "Yeah, I do," I said, munching on them. The disciple finally woke up, squinting his eyes and groaning.

He asked, "What's that sound?" "Whoppers," Robin answered casually, "But you're the bad guy, so before you ask, no, you can't have any." The disciple looked my way, noticing I was eating too. "Wait a minute," he said, "Batman?" "Who else?" I said seriously, swallowing. The disciple snapped out of his daze quickly, saying, "You'll never get anything out of me! I'm loyal to Joseph!" "Well, at least you're more outspoken than some of the others we've come across," I sighed, "But are you totally sure about being loyal? Maybe Joseph isn't. Maybe if we throw you in jail, he'll find out and assume you told us something. That wouldn't turn out pleasantly for you, would it?" "If you're suggesting he'd kill me," the disciple responded ravenously, "It'd be an honor. _I'd_ know I didn't waver." "You sure would," I said, "But maybe it wouldn't be Joseph coming for you. I figure he'd send someone to do his dirty work. He seems to enjoy that. Maybe Cerberus, or maybe even Scarecrow. I have a feeling you like Scarecrow just as much as any other disciple. That is, not at all." "I don't care about that hack," the disciple spat, "He can do all he wants with me. Even being killed by a servant of Joseph's would be enough for me." "All right, fine," I said, "I guess it's time for a new plan." I walked away from the disciple, leaving him in the Batcave. There was no pleading to be set free. There wasn't the question regarding if we really were going to leave him there. There was only silence.

As Robin and I entered the manor, Alfred greeted us, saying, "Master Wayne, Master Grayson. Why are you still in your costumes?" "We're trying to figure out what to do with the guy we have in the Batcave," Robin answered, "He's not budging. At least, not with the usual threats." "And those would be?" Alfred asked. We told him all we'd thrown at the disciple. He nodded every once in a while, deep in thought. "I think I have an idea," Alfred said. "Wait, how do you know about getting info out of criminal?" Robin asked, "No offense. It's just, you're the butler." "Yes I am," Alfred said, "But I am also the specially chosen butler. I have siblings, you know. It's only that none of them ever served Her Majesty in MI6…or learned how to act." "You…what?" an astonished Robin said. "Yes, Master Grayson, I was a spy for a time," Alfred said, "Not too long, mind you, but long enough to know I enjoyed it. Alas, I had a different calling." "Crazy…so what's like?" Robin asked eagerly, "Being a spy, I mean." "Well, it's not like what you see in James Bond films," Alfred replied. Robin seemed kind of disappointed until Alfred walked past him on his way to the Batcave and said, "It was much better." "Think I'll ever be able to get some stories out of him?" Robin asked me. I shook my head, smirking. We met Alfred at the mouth of the Batcave, asking, "So, what's your idea?" Alfred replied, "I'm delighted you asked. Do you know who this disciple is?" "No," I answered grimly. "Well then, that's the first step," Alfred said, "Find out who he is, and then…" The more he explained his plan, the more Robin and I were willing to try and pull it off.

Robin and I walked up to the bound disciple, going behind him with fingerprint equipment. "Hey, what're you…?" he began, surprised. "Finding out just who you are, friend," I answered, roughly grabbing his fingers and getting their prints one by one. When I finished, I said, "Enjoy your stay. You won't be here for much longer." As we left, the disciple still remained without a word. He really was loyal. Following Alfred's plan, we got in the Batmobile and sped to the GPD's HQ. We'd called Jim Gordon on our way to let him know we had something for him. On arrival, he was already waiting out front, as usual. When we hopped out of the Batmobile, Jim asked, "So, what is it you've got?" "A huge break in the case of Joseph's organization, we hope," I answered. I handed him an airtight evidence bag containing the disciple's fingerprints, saying, "Can you run those?" "If they're in our database, yes," Jim answered, "If not…" "We're out of luck," I finished for him. "All right, I should have a list of potential suspects in a couple hours," Jim said, "It's not like on TV. I'll send you photos of the suspects so you ID which one you have." "Got it," I nodded, "Thanks, Jim." "It's my pleasure," Jim nodded back, "It's one step closer to getting this Joseph." After that, we left for the manor, anticipation alone making us jittery. We had no way of knowing if our plan would work. But if it did…

When we got back to the Batcave, we realized the disciple had fallen asleep. "At least he's not trying to escape," I shrugged. Robin and I took off our suits, changing into casual clothes and going to the manor. As we entered, Alfred was there to greet us yet again, asking, "How did it go?" "We'll find out, I guess," I answered, raising my eyebrows, "If this guy doesn't have a criminal record, we'll be back to square one." "And if he does," Alfred replied hopefully, "This might be the greatest moment of your career." Dick said, "And mine, of course." "Yes, and yours, Master Grayson," Alfred smirked. I sighed both with relief and with anxiety, saying, "Well, there haven't been any crime alerts lately, so I think we should just wind down until we get those print results." Dick and I decided to play Xbox for a little while, trying to pass the time faster somehow. As we played, Dick said, "This is huge." "You can say that again," I replied. "What do you think we'll end up doing with whatever we find?" Dick asked. I answered, "Maybe we'll end up at Scarecrow's hideout and find the Joker. Maybe we'll just be led to a splinter cell of the organization. Maybe we'll even find Joseph's lair." Dick shook his head and raised his eyebrows in disbelief, saying, "Finding the big man himself? That's…that's scary, man." "You're not wrong," I agreed, "If that _is_ what comes of all this, we've got a big fight ahead of us." "It's more than that," Dick shook his head again, "I mean, we _think_ we know the kind of power this guy has. But…what if we really don't? We've never _seen_ him. All we know is how he orders around his men. That guy back there? I've never even _thought_ somebody could be so fanatical." "We just wait, Dick," I said, trying to calm him, "It's all we _can_ do." Dick sighed, "I guess you're right." We continued playing, trying not to focus on our task.

Just as Jim had promised, we got the results a couple hours later, after we'd gotten bored of playing and decided to read a little. My phone buzzed, and I picked it up excitedly. I'd gotten an email containing the names the database had given for the possible ID of our disciple. I opened it, going through all the photos enclosed. Dick looked up, asking, "You see him?" "Not yet," I breathed deeply, "Maybe this guy doesn't have a record after…" I stopped, relief washing over me in torrents. My eyes widened as I finished, "…all." It was the disciple we had in the Batcave. He was a man from the Underground who'd been arrested for possession of illegal drugs on numerous occasions. His record abruptly stopped in 2013. "Found him," I said quietly. "Really?" Dick jumped up from the chair he was in, rushing over. He looked at the photo, nodding his head eagerly and saying, "Yeah, that's definitely him. What now?" "Now we finish Alfred's plan," I smiled, "This might just work." "It might just," Dick nodded, "But then again…" "I know, I know," I responded, "We just have trust Alfred on this one. If doesn't pan out, we'll…adapt. We always do, don't we?" A few doubts still in his mind, Dick sighed, "I guess we do." "Then it's settled," I said, "Let's do this." We headed towards the Batcave.

The disciple woke up with a light in his face and Batman and Robin standing over him. "Hi, Aidan," I smiled. Aidan's eyes widened as he asked angrily, "How do you know my name?!" "We have friends in reliable places," I replied, "And now that we know who you are, it's time to take you to one of them." A hood was forcefully placed on Aidan's head, and he felt himself being untied from the chair. His hands and feet were still bound, and he was suddenly put over someone's shoulder. A few seconds later, he was thrown into an unfamiliar space that only added to the dark he was already in. "What're you two doing with me?!" he asked angrily. He realized where he was when, without a response, we closed off the space with a thud. He realized he was in a trunk. Specifically, the trunk of the Batmobile. Robin and I got in, our doubts about the plan being put on the back burner, at least momentarily. I called Jim to let him know where to meet us. Soon enough, we arrived. The front gate of Blackgate Penitentiary loomed as eerily as it always had, almost passing up the ghostly feel of Arkham. Jim stood just in front of it. As we approached him with the disciple over my shoulder, he asked, "What's his name?" "Aidan Lee," I responded, "With the kind of record he has, I think he might know someone here." Aidan suddenly spoke up, "Wait a minute. Is that Jim Gordon? Where are we? What's going on?" "Getting scared, Aidan?" I asked, looking back at him, "Really, I thought you were above that." Aidan shut up, eliciting a smile from me.

Jim caught onto our plan, calling the Gotham Police Department's HQ. He said, "Hey, look up a con named Aidan Lee…" He covered his phone's mic and asked, "How do you spell his name?" After I told him, Jim uncovered the mic and continued, "First name spelled A-i-d-a-n. Look for acquaintances, accomplices, anything like that. Look especially for anyone in Blackgate." Aidan squirmed, protesting, "What is this? 'Acquaintances'? What's your deal?" I answered casually, "Not so much a concrete plan as an idea. This might work. You know what, no. This _will_ work." I smiled again, assuring myself that all we needed to do then was wait.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX

The following day, the door to Lee's cell rattled open, finding him breathing heavily, cuts and bruises all over his face and arms. His left leg was even broken. I stood in front of him with Robin and Batgirl to either side of me. He looked up at us from his bed where he was reading, straightening and growling, "You knew this would happen…didn't you?" "Are you really so concerned with that?" I replied, "'Cause honestly, I think you've got bigger things on your mind." Not even bothering to pick up his crutches, Lee hobbled over to me and grabbed my arms, seething, "You _did_ know!" I looked him in the eye and said, "Oh, now, don't tell me your resolve's shaken, Aidan." Lee calmed down, backing up and plopping back down onto his bed. "Kind of a low place for you to stoop, Batman," Lee said, "Didn't think you were the kind of guy to leave someone to his fate for info." "It must've been an unpleasant surprise, then," Robin quipped. "Speaking of which," I said, "Are you more willing to release any information on your boss?" Lee took his eyes off me, turning to look into space. I withdrew a small stack of papers and tossed them onto Lee's bed, saying, "You see that? Those are names. Quite a few, actually. And we found them all on _your_ record. They're all criminals you kicked around with at one time or another. I don't have to tell you how nasty some of them are, or how many of them deserve to be transferred _here_." Lee glanced at the papers, quickly looking up at me yet staying silent. "I know you don't want to die at any of their hands," I added. Lee seethed and got up again.

He jabbed his finger toward me and responded, "You can't. I know you're not a police officer, but I _know_ you work with one! There's no way he'd let this go through!" I chuckled softly, answering, "Friend, you operate in a city called _Gotham_. I don't know where else you've been, but here…I certainly can. And so can my cop friend. Again, we've looked at your record, and I'm not sure who's going to cry if your old friends get a hold of you." Lee clenched his jaw. "I'll give you time to think," I said, "You don't answer me in a minute, though, and you might just be out of luck." We just stayed still, staring at each other, neither one wanting to give up any ground. Fifty-five seconds later, I sighed and said, "All right, close it up." Lee shook momentarily and then shouted, "I can't take it! All right, I'll tell you what little I know!" I turned, saying, "And what might that be?" "Look, after White Knight went rogue…" Lee paused, as though he didn't believe what he was saying. Eventually, he continued, "When White Knight went rogue, Joseph knew it'd be too big a risk to keep his base of operations in the same place it'd been before. So he moved. When he found out White Knight had been killed, he relaxed a little bit. He let a few disciples go on assignment to another one of his higher-ups." "Scarecrow," I nodded. "Yeah," Lee responded, "I was one of them. I can tell you where Scarecrow was holed up, but he's probably moved." I was nearly finished with Lee.

I asked him seriously, "Can you tell me where Joseph is hiding?" Lee was almost straining with the force of his inner conflict. Eventually, he burst, "No. I can't. I've already said too much, and…Joseph doesn't just have men with him. He has men everywhere." "Well aware," I answered, "All right then, one out of two isn't bad. Where's Scarecrow?" Lee told me reluctantly, tripping over words and beginning to sweat. "Okay," I said, "Thanks for your time." I turned to walk away. Lee seemed to finally realize what he'd done to himself, saying, "I'm going to end up like Joe Chill! They're going to kill me!" I turned one last time to look at him, responding, "Maybe. And if I find out you got knocked off, I'll know you died after doing the only good you'd ever done." I turned back and walked away as the cell's door rattled shut again, leaving Lee behind with his own fear. As we walked to the Batmobile, Batgirl glanced back, asking, "You weren't actually going to try and get other guys in there, were you?" "Lee was probably right when he said the police officer I worked with wouldn't go with that idea," I answered, "Your dad doesn't seem like that kind of guy." Batgirl responded, "Maybe not. Do you…do you think we'll actually find Scarecrow?" I nodded. She continued, "Are you going to let me help you?" I stopped and turned to look at her, answering, "…I guess I should. But only…" She finished for me, "Only at the Batcave, I know." I nodded again, saying, "Yeah. I know it's frustrating, but…well, you know how it is." Batgirl sighed, "I do. I'm just grateful you're letting me help." "Always," I said quietly. We got into the Batmobile, ready to get back to the manor and plan our next move.

Meanwhile, at Blackgate, one of the guards, specifically one who hadn't caught our attention, made an unnoticed call. When his desired contact picked up, he said, "I need to talk to Somnus…Somnus, Aidan Lee spilled it…yeah, they know where Scarecrow is. Tell him to get out of there…I thought he was stronger, too. He was going to get promoted, right?...Yeah, I'll take care of it…" Suddenly, from Lee's cell, the guard heard what sounded like glass breaking. All the other guards on the block had already passed on their patrols. "One second…" he said, lowering his phone and speed walking to Lee's cell. When he looked inside, he raised his phone back to his ear, continuing, "Somnus, I don't think we'll have to take care of anything…just keep your eye on the news." Lee had managed to kick the mirror in his cell to pieces, taking a shard and carefully cutting deep into both his wrists. He was pale, blood pouring from his arms. He looked the guard in the eye, heaving, "You're one of them." He raised his wrists towards the guard, continuing, "I won't let you take me. I'm going to die on my own terms now." The guard backed away, looking around to make sure that no one could see what was going on. He waited for a few minutes, with Somnus continually asking, "What's going on?" Eventually, Lee groaned softly and slowly collapsed, his breathing becoming laborious. The guard finally answered Somnus, "Lee's not going to be a problem…yeah, let the Scarecrow know. He should be prepared." He lowered the phone, hanging up and walking away from Lee, smirking.

The Joker was singing "I've Been Working on the Railroad" loudly and without care for the actual notes, and consequently, Jonathan was wearing headphones. Roger DeCarlo walked up to him frantically, holding up his handgun and gritting his teeth. He said rapidly, "Boss, please let me shoot him. I want to shoot him bad. I don't have to kill him. Just let me take out a kneecap. Just one." "Leave him be, Roger," Jonathan responded, "If we treat him any worse he might not be in a charitable mood anymore." The Joker suddenly stopped singing, shouting, "OH, DON'T YOU WORRY! I'M ALWAYS CHARITABLE! WELLLLLL…" He switched to another song, which made DeCarlo growl and start mumbling, "I might shoot myself. I might just blow my own head off." "Oh, please, Roger," Jonathan sighed. Suddenly, Jonathan's phone buzzed. He took off his headphones, answering and saying, "Somnus." Somnus said, "Don't try to make conversation. Batman knows where you are. If you know what's good for you, you'll move your base of operations. I got the report of your last encounter…who's singing?" "I'm surprised you have to ask," Jonathan said, "In any case, I'm not so sure I'm inclined to follow your advice, Somnus. Batman's an interesting figure. Or at least, he's become one." Somnus took a deep breath, saying, "Fine, Scarecrow. Joseph trusts me to cut his losses. If you insist on staying, I'm pulling out any disciples you have under your command." Jonathan answered, "That's okay. Just let me have my fun." He hung up, and only a few seconds later, he heard footsteps coming from farther parts of the building as disciples cleared out under Somnus' direction.

DeCarlo asked, "What's going on?" Jonathan smirked, "Somnus seems to have very little faith in us. He's ordered all his men out of here." DeCarlo started shaking his head, saying, "No, no, no. Is Batman coming here?" Jonathan feigned surprise at the question, responding, "Why, Roger, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're scared." He withdrew a handgun and pointed it at DeCarlo's chest. Jonathan finished, "You're not, are you?" DeCarlo had only an inkling of what would happen if he left Jonathan without authorization, but even that was enough to keep him submissive. He growled, "You're insane," and walked off. As he departed, Jonathan said, "Oh, Roger, if you would, please let everyone else know." DeCarlo grunted unintelligibly and waved off Jonathan. Jonathan chuckled lightly. Suddenly, the Joker ceased his singing and droned, "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you had…something…for DeCarlo." "Oh, no," Jonathan laughed, "No, I'm afraid not. You see, Roger is uncomfortable around me. When someone's uncomfortable, they don't function as well. When someone doesn't function as well, they're easier to control." The Joker nodded.

He asked, "Do you really feel as confident as you sound? About Batman?" Jonathan answered, "Why wouldn't I?" The Joker responded, "Well, remember where you found me." "You gave yourself up," Jonathan said. The Joker shrugged, "Who knows? Maybe Batman disarmed me with his righteousness." Jonathan smiled widely, saying, "Huh. Even _you're_ trying to get me away from here." The Joker immediately answered, "You've had enough warnings already. You should be glad I'm speaking up. You act like Batman's a specimen. I guess he's all things to all people, after all. And that means he something to me. He's a…symbol, I suppose. Batman's not going to die when the man behind him bites it. At least, _I_ don't see that happening. It might even hold the same for his sidekicks. But more than that, Batman's a _wildcard_. Back not even three years ago, when this town _really_ knew how to party, the only goody-two-shoes we had to deal with were…bound by all these rules – Batman has, by the way, only one rule – or…or, they weren't good at all. They were just as much rats as the scum they threw in the clink. Then, a day burned in this city's memory arrives. It's a day when a guy who clearly has a lot of time and large hands appears dressed as what we can only assume was what he chose as his favorite animal in second grade…and does a better job than the blue boys! Gotham saw a new, unnerving face of justice, and that you, out of all people, don't seem to mind, is just…odd." "I see you're experienced with giving long-winded speeches," Jonathan mocked. "You're no better, buddy," the Joker responded. "Be that as it may, I'm sorry we didn't have a better kind of meeting," Jonathan sighed. "Feeling's mutual," the Joker bowed.

That evening, the computers in the Batcave were being tended to by Barbara, complete with headphones and a box of Reese's Pieces. "Let's get this show on the road," she said. "Let's bring the fight to Scarecrow," I said. Robin and I jumped in the Batmobile, ready to end this.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER XX

We parked in a back alley and proceeded on the rooftops, bounding towards Scarecrow's hideout. "The address is right up here," I said, slowing to a stop on the closest rooftop. I withdrew a pair of high-grade binoculars, scanning the front of the hideout. "You think Scarecrow's left?" Robin asked. I answered, "I wouldn't think so. He's too sure of himself. I don't think he sees himself as invincible, but he's definitely close." I spotted something. "Ah," I continued, handing the binoculars to Robin, "See that?" I pointed to a specific window. Robin directed his gaze there, beginning, "That looks like a…" I finished for him, "Sniper rifle barrel. Yep, sure of himself is right." I looked at the ominous building's face for some time, trying to think of how we could do this right. I suddenly asked, "Barbara, how are Brittany and Adriana?" Barbara paused, not expecting the question. She answered, "They're fine. They're still getting used to everything, but I think it'll turn out all right. Why?" I sighed, "If this goes south…tell them we said hi." Barbara insisted, "It won't. That's why I'm here, remember?" I could hear her crunching on Reese's Pieces as she added, "Now go get him." I looked over at Robin with a smirk, "I guess that's that, then." "Nothing to do," Robin smiled back. "Uh-huh," I agreed, firing my grappling hook into the wall over the sniper. I quickly tied down the rope, swinging down on it and zip-lining across the gap. The sniper barely had time to react, poking his head out and looking at the rope. He heard the sound of my approach, looking at me and quickly trying to take aim. He didn't fire in time as I said, "Sorry, buddy," and kicked him in the face. He fell backwards, the rifle falling into the street. I checked him, ensuring he was unconscious.

I motioned for Robin to follow me, and a few seconds later, he was beside me, restraining the sniper. "Hey, wait a minute," he suddenly said. He pulled something out of the sniper's back pocket. "This guy's a cop!" he whispered. He'd found a badge. He handed it to me. "Looks pretty real to me," I sighed, "Marcus Wise. Well…this gets one out of the way." I dropped the badge on him, stopping and listening. "You hear anything, Robin?" I asked, "Anyone patrolling the halls?" "Nothing," Robin shook his head, "You?" I shook my head, "Nah. Weirdly enough, it really is too quiet." We stepped into the hall cautiously. Lights were on. Robin and I both took them out with our boomerangs, checking again for any sound. "There's a trap here somewhere," I said. "And considering who we're dealing with, they'll _suck_ ," Robin seethed. I nodded, "No argument. Watch your step." But too late. The overhead sprinklers suddenly came on. But they weren't letting out water. They were emitting gas. Robin swore, stepping back. He fumbled for his breathing mask, but before he succeeded, he took in one deep breath full of the gas. He swore louder as several men, equipped with gas masks and guns, rounded the corner. Robin groaned and fell to his knees. I growled in frustration. I had inhaled the gas as well, but with my previous experience, the worst it did was make my surroundings hazy. Still, not good.

As I did my best to confront the men head-on, Robin was seeing something he'd never wanted to. Barbara was lying in front of him, blood pouring from her mouth and stomach, sobbing loudly. He crawled to her, barely able to keep from vomiting. "Barbara…" he whimpered, reaching out vainly. "Dick?" Barbara heaved. "I'm here, don't worry," Robin said, caressing her face. "Dick, I can't move my legs," Barbara said, "I can't move anything!" "What happened to you?" Robin cried, "How did this happen to you?" Barbara answered, "It was just an accident, Dick. You couldn't have done anything." "But I want to do something!" Robin was almost pleading, "I want to…I want to help you!" Barbara wheezed, "I'm sorry, Dick…you can't…" She faded, her eyes becoming cold and the blood slowing. Robin began blubbering incoherently, his disbelief and sorrow overwhelming him. He suddenly heard Barbara say, "Dick? Hey, Dick! HEY!" He turned from away from Barbara to see…Barbara? He looked back. The dead Barbara was no longer there. He stood, seeing Barbara with an exasperated expression. "Barbara?" Robin said, confused, "But you're…" "I'm at the Batcave, dummy!" Barbara said, "You think I'm actually here? If you're seeing me there, it's a hallucination! Don't let Scarecrow fool you!" Robin stared at the Barbara standing in front of him. "Okay…" he said, "This is Inception-level stuff right here." Barbara rolled her eyes, and Robin saw her pull him further along. "Focus on something else right now!" Barbara said, "Like how Bruce needs help!" Robin looked past Barbara, seeing me fighting my hardest. "Right," he breathed.

He shook himself out, his vision still suffering from the gas' effects. He clumsily charged Timothy Munroe, managing to knock him over. He groaned, "Oh, I might throw up." Barbara yelled, "Keep it together, man!" Robin nodded quickly, getting up as fast as he could and kicking Munroe in the head. He fell unconscious. Robin dry-heaved, leaning and supporting himself with his hands on his knees. Suddenly, he heard me say, "I know you're trying to help, Robin, but…try a little harder!" Robin responded, "Yeah, yeah." He turned to have his fist caught by Jim Corrigan, who looked him in the eye and said, "You're just a kid." Robin quipped, "Hope you're not being discriminatory, buddy. After all, this _is_ America." As Corrigan tried to fire a shot off, Robin savagely twisted his arm. Corrigan yelled in pain, but still managed to fire at Robin, nailing him in the arm. Robin grunted, kicking Corrigan in his chest. The kick sent him backwards, out from the sight of everyone else, meaning that Robin had to go after him. Meaning that I was left to fight four other guys. Regardless, Robin stomped his way over to Corrigan, trying to intimidate and somewhat failing in his condition. Corrigan had tripped and fallen on his back, losing his gun. He reached for it, pointing it at Robin in a fumbling manner. "I'm surprised you're still up after being shot," Corrigan said. "Well, I've got my girlfriend talking in my ear, and I've also got her right here," Robin replied, pointing to nothing on his right side. Corrigan was only momentarily distracted, continuing to aim at Robin.

Robin stared down the barrel of the gun, eventually observing, "You know, dude, I'm not sure you that much of a bad guy." He quickly disarmed Corrigan with a boomerang, adding, "Like them? I call them my 'Robinrangs'." Corrigan didn't even reach for his gun again. Robin tilted his head to the side, saying, "Get out of here before I change my mind about you." Corrigan looked at Robin one last time before scrambling to his feet and running off. Roger DeCarlo heard someone running, and he looked up from his fight with me, shouting after Corrigan, "Going to leave us behind, SPECTRE?!" I silenced him with a fist to the face as Corrigan escaped out of the building. The name that the other men had placed on him rang in his mind as he continued to flee, the realization that his life as he knew it was over slowly overcoming him. He stopped a few hundred yards from the building, looking back for what he hoped was the last time. He saw Jonathan staring right at him. Corrigan felt a twinge of fear, but not for long. He said to himself, "This is the last time I make myself a coward. This is the last time James Corrigan runs away." And with that, he continued running, forming a new commitment that only he would know, a commitment that only he _could_ know.

By the time Corrigan had disappeared from view, Robin and I had dispatched the rest of Scarecrow's henchmen, as disoriented as we were. We both leaned against a wall to steady ourselves, the effects of the gas only beginning to wear off. Barbara timidly asked, "Are you all right, guys?" Robin took a deep breath and replied, "We're okay, Barb." She sighed with relief, asking, "So now what? You guys have to take on Scarecrow, right?" I answered, "Yeah. We have to take him down and grab the Joker." Barbara asked, "Wait, shouldn't you guys try to get something out of Scarecrow? You know, about Joseph, or something?" I shook my head, answering, "No. Scarecrow would sooner be killed than give something up. He's not as fragile as some other criminals I've met." Robin said, "I guess this means we'll be no closer after all this is over." I replied, "Maybe. I think it's necessary, though. Gotham doesn't need someone like Scarecrow out in the open." We paused for a few seconds, trying to cram in as much rest as we could in a small time frame. Robin eventually said, "We should probably get moving now." I nodded, standing up straight and walking down the halls of the building, Robin following closely behind. No more traps presented themselves, but as I was about to find out, Scarecrow didn't really need them.

I heard muffled grunting from behind me and several thuds, along with a momentary hiss. I turned just in time to see Scarecrow restraining Robin, throwing him aside. He'd bashed off Robin's gas mask, making him inhale the gas. "What're you seeing, Dick?" Barbara asked him frantically. "Oh, nothing, really," Robin answered, "Well…I mean, now it's just more like bad acid." Scarecrow had been staring at me without a word. "I don't suppose the gas would really work on you anymore," he said. "Don't think so, Scarecrow," I responded. He snickered, "Finally starting to use my nickname. About time." He rushed me with his cane, grappling and repeatedly striking me over the back with it. Despite the incredible pain he was able to inflict, I got a fistful of his hair and yanked back, hard. He grunted and reeled backwards, retaliating by swinging his cane at my head. I caught it with my left hand, growling, "Without your best weapon, what're you going to do now?" Scarecrow replied, "Break the one rule you've set for yourself." He pulled out a handgun, one which I grabbed for. I managed to catch the barrel, trying to twist it away from me. I failed. The gun was fired, the bullet hitting me square in the gut. The surge of pain and adrenaline made me growl again and practically break Scarecrow's hand, wresting the gun from him.

I still held Scarecrow's cane as he said, "Getting shot in the gut is a slow way to die." I nodded, "Well aware." Scarecrow grinned devilishly as he wrenched the cane from my grasp, swinging it into the bullet wound. This made the pain even worse, causing me to stumble backwards. Scarecrow took his chance, finally connecting the cane with my head and nearly knocking me out. I fell, my senses becoming vague. A confused shouting suddenly began, followed by a short scuffle. I drifted into the black, wondering who was fighting who, and who won. When I woke up, I was in the passenger seat of the Batmobile, with Robin driving. "Hey," he said, "Good that you finally woke up. I was getting worried." I groaned, "Who…?" Robin answered quickly, "The Joker, of all people. Guess he's serious about the 'frenemies' thing he keeps talking about." I leaned back in my seat, asking, "Where is he now?" Robin responded, "He's in the building with Scarecrow, all bound up. He's ready to go back to jail." I nodded slightly, "Perfect." Robin sighed, "You know, this really _does_ mean that we haven't made any progress. We don't know where Joseph is, or what his end game is." I replied, "We'll make it in the end. We always do." "Let's hope," Robin scoffed, "Let's head home." I stared out the window of the Batmobile, only half-believing what I'd said.

END OF BOOK FOUR

COMING SOON…KNIGHT OF GOTHAM: DEAD HEARTS

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO EVERYONE.

THANKS TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS!


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